


Through The Glass Of A Fish Bowl

by Pastel_Rose



Category: Eternal Summer - Fandom, Free!, Iwatobi Swim Club - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Unrequited Love, asexual!makoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 129,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Rose/pseuds/Pastel_Rose
Summary: Life did not turn out the way Makoto had envisioned.He is slipping further and further away from the image he, and those around him, had held onto for so long. He cannot see where he needs to go and his world is being clouded by his regrets and his emotions.He is so distant from all of his friends now; they are all out there being somebody, and he is right back at square one, unable to keep up with them.Everything is slipping through Makoto's fingers, and he just wants to go back to a time where maybe he had a bit of hope left.But, how can achieve that when he does not know where to start?There are many challenges Makoto has to face, but he is tired of it all.He is tired of being stuck in a glass bowl of his emotions and limitations.





	1. Prologue - Morning Memories Of The Past

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you very much for reading this!  
> Okay, so first of all, welcome!
> 
> Now, the reason I have labled this as a mature fic is because of the themes of depression that will be talked about, and I am unsure of how graphic it may get. I will be sure to list any possible triggers in this before each chapter. If after reading a chapter you notice I missed a possible trigger please let me know and I will add it to the list.
> 
> Also, this is just the prologue, so do not worry, all chapters after this one will be much longer. 
> 
> I am still unsure of how mnay chapters this will have, but I do plan to try and make this have at least 10 ( I am aiming for more though). I will try and update either twice or once a week, so please, stay tuned!
> 
> Again, thank you very much for reading and I hope you all have lovely day! :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life did not turn out the way Makoto had envisioned.  
> He is slipping further and further away from the image he, and those around him, had held onto for so long. He cannot see where he needs to go and his world is being clouded by his regrets and his emotions.  
> He is so distant from all of his friends now; they are all out there being somebody, and he is right back at square one, unable to keep up with them.  
> Everything is slipping through Makoto's fingers, and he just wants to go back to a time where maybe he had a bit of hope left.  
> But, how can achieve that when he does not know where to start?  
> There are many challenges Makoto has to face, but he is tired of it all.  
> He is tired of being stuck in a glass bowl of his emotions and limitations.

  There was once a time where the future and the chains that came with it was something only tasted through the lives of fictional characters. Everyone told him to savour his youth, to hold on as long as he could. Yet, he was not treated like a child for a very long time. Back then he did not mind too much; being older meant he could experience all of these wonderful things that had been restricted to him for so long. He was none the wiser to the complications and pains that would wash over him as the title of ‘adult’ encapsulated his whole world. He was none the wiser to all the kinds of emotions the human heart was capable of creating.

 

  Two young boys sat near the water’s edge as dusk kissed the lake. The small sounds of crickets and bugs could be heard as the morning air slumbered over their town. Their little home. The atmosphere between them was calm and comforting, despite the lack of words being said. They were old enough to appreciate the company of each other without needing it to be filled with anything, yet young enough to constantly hold the anticipation of possibilities to what _could_ happen, or what _could_ be said. Although he could not remember all of those moments, it was times like those that Makoto wished he could go back to. To just stay in an endless loop of those times. When his heart pumped and thumped, but in a way that only made him smile. When he was ignorant of everything else. When he was truly happy.

  He always felt like friendship and love were much simpler concepts back then. Maybe they even meant more. There was never any hesitation or questioning, it just _was_.

  The morning continued to shine over them. Displaying a soft blend of warm colours and endless options. The rich air dusting their skin and clearing their breaths. Time escaped them as they continued to stare out at the lake. The mildly warm air almost lulled Makoto into a small state of sleep.

  When he saw Haru start to stand and walk to the path that lead back to their houses Makoto followed. A smile firmly plastered on his face. They walked next to each other along the foot path, steps slow, and hands almost touching. Even at that age Haru always had a passive personality, and for the most part would do as he pleased. Makoto knew that he cared though, he could feel how big Haru’s heart was. Makoto often doubted that Haru truly knew the influence and power he had over him. So much of what he did, and how his personality grew and changed, was from the energy that was emitted from Haru’s presence.

  As they continued to slowly walk along the path Makoto would turn his head every so often, catching a quick glimpse of Haru’s face; his eyes small and concentrated. Makoto remembered that many of the children thought Haru’s face was intimidating or standoffish, but Makoto always thought it was kind. It was Haru’s face, after all. Haru’s face lit up Makoto’s heart, warming his entire body. It was a feeling that Makoto often craved and longed for, even if he did not fully understand why.

  After they walked for a little longer they finally reached Makoto’s home. Makoto pulled on Haru’s arm.

  “Haru, Haru, would you like to come over?” He asked. “We can have some cookies and milk, together!”

  Haru nodded.

  Makoto beamed.

  As they went in they both made their way to the kitchen, where Makoto got the cookie container and cups full of strawberry milk. They sat on the ground next to the coffee table in the lounge room. The sun’s warm beam spread through the room, and highlighted Haru’s dark hair. Makoto could not help but stare. His mind only occupied with the image in front of him. The calm and irreplaceable image of his friend.

  “Haru, would you like to pick the first cookie?” Makoto asked.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yep! Of course!”

  Haru placed his small hand into the large red tin and felt for the cookie. Eventually pulling out an almost perfectly round chocolate chip cookie.

  “I don’t think there is any other ones in there, Makoto,” He whispered, in his typical nonchalant tone.

  “Oh? Really? That is okay!” Makoto exclaimed, happily. “Haru can have it; I didn’t even really want one anyway.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Haha! Yes, of course!”

  A ghost of a smile graced Haru’s lips as he bit into the cookie. Makoto’s heart swelled and melted at the sight. Being the reason to help Haru smile was something that never failed to make the little boy jittery with happiness.

  Having a person as special as Haru close to him never failed to make Makoto happy.

  After finishing his cookie and milk Haru turned to Makoto and lightly touched his hand, softly smiling again. “Thank you, Makoto.”

  Makoto mirrored Haru’s smile.

 

  To go back to those times was all Makoto wanted sometimes, the times he and Haru were close. To a time he felt needed.


	2. A Day Of Compassion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you so much for reading!  
> I apologise for this being posted a little late, I had planned to get it out earlier.  
> It is still probably a little short and slow(?), but I am still trying to establish everything. I am hoping to have the next chapter to be more interactive and have more interesting things happen. So, please, stay tuned! :) 
> 
> And don't forget, if I have forgot any trigger warnings you would like me to add to the list, please, do let me know and I will be sure to add it. :) 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Depression/ Lack of energy/ Negative thoughts  
> \- Eating/ Indifferent towards eating  
> -Self Deprication/ Blaming self for mental illness/The pereception it is doing harmful damage to those around you
> 
>  
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self depricating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opionins that I am promotiong, bur merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both exterenally and internally. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)

  His back was sore and stiff as he stirred in bed. His eyes determined to stay closed and trapped in the thoughts lipping through his mind. The sun light was dribbling in through the blinds, illuminating the dust particles in the air. Makoto could hear the soft muffling noise of his bustling family down stairs. Usually it was a comforting sound – a reminder that he had a safe place to fall down to – but on days that he started to hit his lowest, it was nothing but a sharp reminder of what he was not doing. Of every wrong turn he took. Sometimes, their company did nothing but make him feel lonely. They never said anything bad, not typically, but they did not have to. Their thoughts and deepest dreams were etched all over the curves of their face. Makoto could see them all so clearly, because it was a language he was very accustomed to. It was a language his own face spoke, too. He wondered if maybe it was possible to just drift away. Maybe, just maybe, if he kept his eyes closed long enough everything would disappear. Maybe everything had just been a dream. Maybe he would wake up in a hospital bed, with everyone standing around him, and then he would have an excuse. Society, his friends and family, they would all look at him and fully understand why he was the way he was. Maybe they would understand why he did not go where he wanted to in life. Maybe, he would start to believe them. Maybe he would not have the thoughts that stick to his mind. Maybe.

  Maybe.

  He wished that was how it could be. He would like that very much.

  He did not have anything he _had_ to do that day. Work was not until the next day. Chores were not his responsibility, and he was not hanging out with any friends. He was not planning to hang out with anyone. What reasons was there to get out of bed? What point was there to having a shower? He did not want to. He just wanted to sleep and let the day wash over him. Getting out of bed would mean facing people. Getting out of bed would mean facing himself. While he was sleeping, while he was in his bed, nothing could hurt him; he was safe there. Why would he want to give up that safety?

  He knew having a shower after two days of not having one would make him feel better. He did know that, because it was what always happened. It always made him feel better. Even if only momentarily.

  Groaning, Makoto rubbed is hands over his eyes, in an attempt to pry them open.

  Eventually his eyes unstuck themselves, providing a blurred image of his roof. He blinked a few times to try and wake them up a bit more. He turned his head to the side and starred across his room. His mind slipped back to the thoughts of staying bed. His blankets were keeping him safe. He was comfortable. What good would getting out of bed do? The day would probably go quicker if he stayed in, and then, he could go back to sleep again.

  He could faintly hear the noise of his front door opening and closing again. His father and siblings had most likely just left. Tension spiked his chest.

  Makoto sighed.

  He took a deep breath before slowly removing his blankets. His head still turned to the side.

  He groaned again. Lightly he closed his eyes, before opening them and refusing to drift off. He sat up and stretched. He wanted to lie back down.

  He put his legs out of the bed.

  He stood up.

  He sighed.

  He walked out of his room.

  Makoto made his way to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and placed it in the basket before going into the second section of the bathroom. Sitting down on the plastic stool he turned the water on, letting it run over him. It cleansed him. It calmed him. It composed him.

  He tried to focus on all the small drops of water. He tried to stop thinking about everything in the past and the future and just focus on his shower. He rubbed the soap through his hair and over his skin. His skin had grown to less toned and softer over the years. He still tried to go for runs, so it was not as soft as it could be, but it was certainly not the same texture it had been a few years ago. New lines had started to appear over the years and his edges stuck out in small places they never used to. He used to care about it; it used to heavily bother him. Makoto reached a point though where his mind found more pressing things to drain his energy. Every so often he will get upset that he does not have the exact same body that he used to, especially on does where his mind perpetuates nothing but negative emotions. For the most part he had come to terms with it.

  The steam clouded the room. Moving around his entire body. He rubbed more soap over his body, for good measure, before washing it off and turning the water off. He stayed seated on the stool. Staring at the wall in front of him. Listening to the small drops of the water falling. Feeling the pressure of his own breaths escaping his lungs in long and drawn out movements. Makoto closed his eyes before standing up and wrapping a towel around his waist and walking over to the mirror.

  The mirror had been mostly covered by the steam, making his image fuzzy and disjointed. He rubbed his hands over his face before sighing and grabbing his tooth brush.

  The sting of the toothpaste in his mouth felt oddly good. He could feel the past few days of uncleaned teeth being scrubbed away. Presenting the illusion of emotional stability and daily effort. After spitting out the toothpaste and swishing water through his mouth, he made his way back to his bedroom.

  Once in his room, Makoto sprawled across his bed, his towel slipping past his right leg. His head lolled to the side. His fish bowl partly in his range of sight. The sun glistening through it, creating warm colours of pink and red to spread around it. His goldfish oblivious to it all. Just continuing to swim, round, round, round, round. The small humming of his fan could be heard as he continued to lie on is bed. His wet skin slowly drying. His eye lids felt heavy. Hypnotised and lulled by the even movements of his fish. His chest heavy. Eventually Makoto drifted off, his mind still clouded with unorganized thoughts of the past and the what-ifs of the world

 

  Once Makoto woke up again his towel had slid further off his body, causing him to be chilled.

  After waking, he felt less lethargic then before, though he still felt weighted down. He decided getting dressed quickly and getting downstairs would be the best course of action. He did not want his small bout of energy to be wasted. He remembered hearing that wearing colourful clothing can help someone feel better, so he tried to find his brightest and most vibrant yellow button down shirt to wear, to go along with his light grey pants.

  He brushed his hair the best he could before giving up. He could feel himself growing tense over the matter so he left his room swiftly, not worrying about cleaning up the mess he made.

  As he made his way down the stairs into the hallway he could hear the muffled voices of his mother talking to someone on the phone. Her voice still sounded kind, yet it had grown significantly strained over the years. It was easy for him to hear the long marinated years coming through her voice and appearances. When he was little and petrified of the world she seemed so large. He always thought that no matter how he fell, or where he would have been pushed down, that she was strong enough and big enough to catch him before it truly hurt him. Once he got older he knew that was a lie. She was only a little person, after all. As much as she tried there were things she could not save him from. It was a rude but necessary shock for him. As selfish as he knew it probably sounded, sometimes he wished his mother was bigger, that she was stronger, so he could give up and know that he would not fall. Keeping yourself above water was no easy or welcomed task. He wanted to give up, but he knew if he did that, he would fall. And Makoto was not willing to fall that far. Not yet.

  Not wanting to disturb or shock his mother, Makoto moved into the kitchen and walked around in a sluggish manner before opening up the fridge. He glanced over the cartons of drinks and the containers filled with food. He lightly dragged his fingers over the edge of them all; imagining how they would taste in his mouth. After starring at the contents of the fridge for a little while longer, he finally shut the door and walked away. Choosing to wash his hands in the sink instead.

  As he was drying his hands off his mother walked in.

  “Oh. Makoto,” She said. “I didn’t hear you come down. How are you?”

  Makoto walked over to her and planted a small kiss to her cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m going okay. How are you?”

  She returned the kiss. “I’m glad to hear that,” She replied. “I’m going well. Thank you.” She gave him a small smile. “Would you like me to make you something to eat?”

  “Oh, no that’s fine. Thanks though.”

  “Have you eaten already?”

  “Yeah. I was just washing up my dishes when you came in,” He gave her a weary smile, trying to hide his eyes with is fringe. His mother was still smiling at him, the way she always did.

  “Does that mean you are free then?”

  Makoto’s breath stuck itself to his throat. He knew where that question was going, and he did not know how he was supposed to do. He had work tomorrow and he needed his energy for that, if he drained himself all out before that it would not work out well. He wanted to be there for his mother though. He did not want to expose her to the thick smog of restrictions and doubts that suffocated him. So he lied. Makoto, despite his repulsion to it, had become decently good at lying when he had to

  “Yes, I’m free,” He smiled. “Did you need me to do something?”

  “If it is not too much of a bother, I was hoping you could go down to the convenience store and grab some eggs and milk; I need some more for tonight. You can grab a little treat for yourself too, of course.” She smiled again, before scurrying past him to grab the money he would need. Makoto closed his eyes, trying to gather all of his energy. On days he got bad going out and being near people often inflamed his apathy and emotional overload, so he liked to avoid it. However, he could never refuse a request from his mother. Ever since he was a little boy, refusing to do something for his mother was never something he had the ability to do. No matter how much it would exhaust him or strain him, he would always do whatever he could for her. Someday he hoped it would not be so hard for him to help her, and he could give her even more of his strength.

  Coming back into the kitchen his mother pulled him out of thoughts by placing the money into his hands.

  “Alright now, off you go. I’ll see you when you get back,” Her small hands tapped his arm as he walked away. Parting her with one final smile, and a little shake of his hand.

  The air outside was thick and dry. The streets filled with a few young barefooted kids happily laughing and chasing around a soccer ball. Makoto waited for them to pass before beginning to walk. He kept his head down and let his world be engulfed by the footpath and his shoes. Too scared to see the world while he was feeling so vulnerable. Too scared for the world to see him. So he revelled in the juvenile idea that if he did not look at the world too much, the world would return the favour.

  Walking down a few stone steps that came up he saw a cat meander towards him from around the corner. For the first time that day Makoto smiled a genuine smile. The snow white cat started to walk in front of his legs, preventing him from moving forward. She made soft purring noises as she softly rubbed herself on him. Pleading to be shown affection. He bent down and started to pat her and scratch her, causing her to rumble with deeper purrs.

  Cats always made Makoto feel better. They made him less nervous and made him feel important. He continued to rub her fluffy head and was passively greeted with her rough and pink tongue licking his fingers. Her tail moved around in an energetic manner and her ears twitched, before contently walking around Makoto again and running up the stone steps.

  Makoto could still feel the smile tugging on his face as he stood up and began walking again. It may not have been a large smile, but it gave him the confidence to make it to the convenience store and back home again. Possibly.

  As he walked along, being mindful not to walk too quickly, a few people on bikes, a few couples and little children running around passed him. He tried hard to not feel his stomach drop when he saw them. He tried hard to not let their genuine looking smiles etch themselves into his own inabilities and restrictions. Makoto hated it, but often, seeing other people happy made him feel like even more of a failure. Even if he was smiling or feeling elated, he had convinced himself it was only temporary, and that everyone else’s happiness was never ending. He knew that was not true though. He knew that it was a lie, but Makoto had become very talented in whole heartedly believing lies.

  Makoto turned the corner that lead to the convenience store. A short trail that lead down to a small pond surrounded by green shrubs was next to it. Sitting next to the shrubs Makoto saw an elderly man with thick fur like hair scattered over his balding head and face. The hair was a dark black that was also lathered in a growing number of grey hairs. His face was etched with a labyrinth of lines and dents. His eyes held a boyish charm that demanded to be recognised. To be remembered. His eyes were starring straight ahead, but Makoto could tell he was not looking at anything, not really. His eyes looked bright, yet they held the dark edges of rejection from society. His clothes rugged and filled with small holes. His only comfort from the hard ground a worn out mat that he sat on.

  Makoto’s eyes made contact with the man’s briefly before he continued on his way to the convenience store.

  The air in the store was cool and bitterly artificial. He knew the layout like the back of his hand. Every aisle and section was ingrained into his memory so he could be as efficient as possible. He never liked spending much time in the convenience store. It was always surrounded by too many people that made him nervous, or increased his own self-doubt. Or like they were scrutinizing him for being in there at that time of day. Like they were judging him for what he bought.

  After he had collected the eggs and milk he made his way to the chips aisle, grabbing some plain potato chips. He also grabbed two bottles of water and three bananas before making his way to the cash registers. While paying for his food he made sure to avoid eye contact and kept the talking to minimum, still trying to preserve all the energy he could; he was scared he may have already used up too much of it. He knew he was probably coming off as rude, but he could feel his energy evaporating out of his body like steam off a heated road.

  Once he left the store he crossed the road and made his way back to where the old man was still sitting. His eyes still dully looking out at nothing. Without saying anything Makoto bent down to the man and placed the chips, bottles of water and bananas next to the old man, before getting up and walking away, back to his house.

  The man did not say anything to him, but Makoto did not mind. Makoto knew how hard it could be to say things when life had spent such a long time trying to silence you and beat you down. He did not need to say anything to the old man, and the old man did not need to say anything to him. Makoto saw a smile stretch across his face. The smile matching his boyish eyes. It was filled with chipped teeth and cracked gums, but it was the most liberating and bright smile Makoto had seen in years. The old man looked straight into Makoto’s eyes, his eyes growing damp, and Makoto could see the faint reflection of himself in them. The old man rubbed and patted Makoto’s hands, before releasing a noise that sounded like a thank you. Makoto smiled back and stood up, waving a little goodbye before heading back on his way.

  The stone steps came into Makoto’s sight, as well as the white cat, and Makoto felt relieved. Home was not far off at that point; soon he could plug up all the energy running out of his body. Before he could take another step he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Pulling it out Makoto’s heart sped up and his breath resided back into his body. He felt an unfamiliar mix of emotions and questions.

  He had received a message from Nagisa.


	3. True Colours Of The Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maktot steps out of his comfort zones to try and embarce a sitaution that he thinks will make him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! Knew chapter! I am sorry it took longer to get out then I had orignally planned, but it is longer too, so yay!
> 
> This chapter is sort of like the last one, as it is a bit slow and mainly based around setting up the themes and tones. I am hoping for it to speed up, but it will be a slow process. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Again, thank you all so much for taking the time to read it ! <3 
> 
> Please have a look at my end of chapter notes for other things! (They are spoilers so I don't want to put them here, just in case ) 
> 
> As always, if I have missed any trigger warnings you beleive I should include just let me know and I will add them ASAP! :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Depression/ Lack of energy/ Negative thoughts  
> \- Eating/ Indifferent towards eating  
> -Self Deprication/ Blaming self for mental illness/The pereception it is doing harmful damage to those around you  
> \- Negative Depictions Of A Friend Group  
> \- Negative Thoughts That Came About From Anxiety Becoming Real  
> \- Panic attack (sort of, it is a mild one) 
> 
>  
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self depricating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opionins that I am promotiong, bur merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both exterenally and internally. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)

  Makoto’s eyes felt heavy and thickly dry.

  He never liked to be the type of person to complain. He never liked to pick apart the negative aspects of any situation and lay them out. It had always seemed pointless to him. Why would he want to waste his energy over bad things he likely could not change? It had always just seemed like such _meaningless_ thing to do. Makoto strived hard to be the bedrock of his friends and family. To support them through positivity. Eventually, that positivity of his had become imbedded into his thoughts and actions. He had started to become the person he was for others for himself. It was not something he noticed though. The changes were so small and subtle, that the transaction was only fully noticed by him many years after, while he was trying to remember the happy moments of his past. He wanted to keep and maintain the outlook to life and his friends that he did when he was younger, yet it felt futile to do so. It was easier to fall through the dark parts of life then go looking for the bright ones, because they were so scarcely found. Over the years it had started to feel as though his golden armour was being ripped apart, and what was left of it had begun to rust, and blister his skin.

  He never wanted to be a person who focused on the negatives of a situation, but sometimes, things change.

  The newsagency that Makoto worked in was lifeless and empty. The quiet air around him was like a huge woollen coat, causing him to sweat uncomfortably and move stiffly. His boss was out the back, asleep at his desk. It left Makoto alone and feeling even more tired. The people who came to Makoto’s work were few and far between, and most of them were too bitter or busy to ever have any form of small talk with Makoto. Some days Makoto felt the same way they did, other times he felt so deprived of human contact that he was desperate for someone to even have a five minute talk with him that involved no responsibilities or focused around him.

  Normally the customers and his boss were the only things that made him have unwelcomed emotions while at work, however, on that day, the message he had received yesterday was the main worry racking around through his brain. He suspected he was meant to feel happy or even elated over that message, and he did, in a way, but he was too full of confusion to properly suckle on that golden happiness of opportunities that had been presented to him. In all honesty he was not sure what the appropriate emotions would be for him in that situation. Maybe he was not supposed to feel happy. Maybe he was meant to feel something else. He had been so caught up that he did not even respond to Nagisa’s invitation. He did not know what he was expected to say. How did Nagisa want him to respond? Was he meant to accept the invitation? Was he meant to deny it, to say he was just too busy? Was it a test, to see if he was as occupied with life as everyone else? The invitation was out of the blue and Makoto had thoroughly begun to hate and move away from surprises. Nothing good ever came to him in the form of a surprise.

  Maybe Nagisa was just genuinely being kind and inviting him to get together.

  Maybe everyone actually wanted to see him.

  Maybe even Haru wanted to see him.

  A smile split across Makoto’s face at that thought. Haru wanting to see him was something that never failed to send shivers through him.

  He kept his eyes locked on the clock on the wall. His heartbeat in sync with the ticking of the second hand. He had one hour left until he could leave. One hour left until he could message Nagisa and tell him that he would be there. One hour until he could get ready to see Haru. The energy of his decision buzzed through him. Makoto was content with his decision. He now how had a goal for the day, which was not always something he could find. So despite the rotten feeling that was burnt at the base of his stomach all day, it seemed as if the day was beginning to look up. Maybe he could still salvage it.

  As the minutes rolled over Makoto began to feel the weight of his choices. He did not want to waver though, he tried to keep his mind focused and worry about the present and not question the future. The more he pondered on it, the more he would feel defeated and like he did not belong on the undetermined future. He did not want to focus on that. He wanted to focus on getting work over with, and getting ready to see all of his friends. He was going to see his friends, and it was going to work out.

  He was going to see his friends.

  They were going to want to see him.

  They would all catch up and everything would be okay.

  It would all be okay.

  As the end of his shift grew closer no new customers had come in, and his boss was still fast asleep out the back. The environment around him was calm, so he was hopeful it would seep into his body and give him the strength to be calm also.

  His hands were twitching with anticipation to message Nagisa about the good news. He had not seen all of his friends in person for a long time. Makoto could have pulled out his phone and messages Nagisa quickly, he boss would never have known, but he wanted to appear at least somewhat professional. So he withheld and waited. It was not long until his shift would be over and he would be free to go wherever he pleased.

  As the last minutes of his shift crept through, Makoto cleaned up the last of the shelves and made his way to the back room, where his boss and bag were. He collected his items and shook his boss awake. His boss made an incoherent mumble before Makoto explained that he was leaving for the day, and that the store was all locked up. He received a meek wave of his boss’ hand before exiting out the back door into the street; where dumpsters and cigarette butts flourished.

  He pulled out his phone quickly, his hands almost shaking. He replied to Nagisa’s message and placed his phone away. He made a quick jog to the bus stop, trying to keep his thoughts at bay before he changed his mind.

  While on the bus Makoto stayed observant, as he often did. He liked to watch the people around him, taking in small aspects about them. Like he was the spectator of on off-world event. Captivated by the movements and language that felt so foreign to him.

  A group of teenagers sat in the seats in front of him, quietly giggling and passing around their mobile phones. Their eyes and movements full of optimism and newly growing tenacity. They were probably all very intelligent, Makoto thought. They would probably all go on to be amazing people. They would probably find love one day, get married and have children. Their children would be beautiful and also very smart. On the weekends maybe they would meet up and talk about life together, reminiscing on the old days fondly. They looked like the type of people that would grow up to be like that. Makoto wondered if he too looked like when he was younger. Did his green eyes shine that way? Or was he always lathered in thick black tar of doubt and worry? Did his appearance morph into one that suited him, or was his appearance one used to deceive people?

  There was an elderly lady and man sitting next to each other, though they were not looking at each other, their hands appeared to be softly intertwined.

  As the bus pulled into the next stop and a small women walked on. Her hair was frizzy and out of place. Her eyes rimmed with the black and grey smudges of tiredness. Around her shoulders was a small fabric sling, which sat in a tight and snug position near her chest; her left arm wrapped around it supportively. She walked steadily through the isle of chairs, taking note of all the occupied ones in front of her as well. After walking a little past where Makoto sat she stopped, holding onto the side of one of the chairs next to her.

  Makoto saw that no one was getting up to give her a seat. They all seemed so preoccupied with their own versions of the world, that they took no notice of her world. Her eyes looked dulled over and as is she too was highly preoccupied with a never ending list rolling over her eyes. Makoto softly stood up and walked towards the women.

  “Um, excuse me,” He mumbled, not sure how to get her attention. “There is a seat here if you would like to have it.” The lady looked at him in the eyes, as if fully processing what was being said to her. A smile broke across her face.

  “Thank you. I was worried I was going to have to stand the whole way there,” She waited for Makoto to move closer to the front of the bus before walking over to the seat and sitting down. A small yet content sigh released from her lips. She mouthed another thank you to Makoto when he looked back. He saw her look down fondly at the baby wrapped up in her bundle.

  The rest of the bus ride escaped Makoto. He spent most of it watching the blurred images pass through the windows. The noise around him morphed into a blanket of crackling background noise. He fiddled with the loose threads of clothing on his shirt as he waited for his bust stop to come. Twirling his index finger around, around, around, the string, until his finger was almost too restricted to move. He dragged himself out of his mind when he saw his stop approaching. He hit the button and got ready to depart from the bus.

  Once the bus stopped he thanked the bus driver and started walking along the footpath to home. The warm evening air was swimming around him. The mellow glow of times past engulfing him. The clouds in the sky were large and dusted with specks of colour. Makoto could feel the repressed anticipation of the evening creeping back up through his throat. It made his whole body uneasy. He wanted to go in saying how much he knew he was going to enjoy himself, but he was too scared to put that box around himself. Being cautious was something he did well, and he did not want to give that up. Being invited was a good start though, it would allow him to start on the correct footing. Even if not fully, he could start the evening with his friends less dubiously than normal. He could go to them being the Makoto he used to be. The Makoto he wanted to be.

  The Makoto that everyone reminded him they preferred.

  Walking into the front door of his house he was greeted with silence. His siblings were probably hanging out with their friends and his father was probably still at work, yet he did not know where his mother would have been. He did not think about it too much though. Knowing that his mother was getting out of the house was a scenario to him.

  He took himself upstairs to his room, dumping his bag to the side. His room was warm, with a sticky aftereffect. Makoto rubbed his hands over his hair and face before heading to his cupboard and trying to find what to wear. He wanted to come off as happy and normal. He was not overly sure what that looked like though. He did not want them all to think he was stressing and worrying over seeing them all again, that would most likely make them all extremely uncomfortable. He wanted to come across as suave and collected.

  How he would achieve that, he had no idea. Especially in conjunction with everything else he had to try and prove.

  He ended up pulling half of his clothes and had them scattered over his room. The floor became a puzzle of social acceptance that Makoto could not piece together.

  He picked up his light pink jumper. It was one he had owned for years and always seemed to calm him in stressful situations. He thought it still looked okay. It looked loved. He also picked up some grey knee length shorts. He thought they both went together well. They looked and felt comfortable, but they also looked like something a person might wear if seeing friends. Not wanting to talk himself out of a decision that took him too look to make, he got dressed and gathered his bag. He took himself down to the kitchen and looked for a new sake bottle he could take a long with him. Although Makoto never really liked how it tasted, he was fairly sure most of his friends would like it. He hoped.

  He wrote a quick note for his mother to where he would be and left the house once again.

  The air was much cooler at that point, though the sun was still peeking through the clouds and illuminating the town.

  Makoto felt a dreaded sense of confidence. He never liked it when he felt good about something; it normally ended up knocking him further down then when he started. He tried hard to not focus on that though.

  He was going to meet is friends.

  He was going to enjoy himself.

  It was all going to be okay.

  Even though Nagisa’s house was a decent walk away, Makoto made sure he walked slowly. He wanted to save his energy. He wanted to be the last one to arrive. It had probably been around two years since Makoto had seen all of his friends at the same time. Sometime he would run into one or two of them while he was out, but even that was small and distinct occurrences. He had not meant for himself to have drifted so far away, but being around his friends became very harrowing and malnourishing. Though it had only been around two years since he had seen them all in person, it had been many more since he had been emotionally with them. His friends had most likely not noticed, but he started abdicate himself from them six months after he dropped out of university. He still saw them, he even confided in them sometimes, but their growth and achievements had started to become a rotting fungus to his life. He had to breakaway before it destroyed him entirely. He would deny invitations to certain get togethers, or if he did go, he would sit to the side, bidding his time until it was over and he could go home. He never enjoyed feeling that way, but he was in a self-destructive protection mode, and nothing else seemed logical to him. Makoto would send them messages, and send them gifts, but he knew very well he had ostracized himself from them. He knew they did not care kindly for the person he had become, but he did not know how to stop himself. He was so different to the people he used to share most of his life with; they had all become the people he had tried so hard to also be. The only difference between was that they did it with finesse and he fell down the second he tried to get up.

  He hoped that maybe with age and the new responsibilities they all had, they would all have been too caught up in the own lives to have associated with each other. Maybe he had reached a point where he was not so different to them all. Maybe that night they would all be able to reconnect and the Makoto of the past could start to resurface.

  As Makoto turned into Nagisa’s street he felt his feet turn to lead. _No_. He was not ready to give up. He did not want to give up, he had come so close. He could see the entrance to Nagisa’s apartment. He was so close. He did not want to turn back. He knew he could do it if he just stopped thinking and kept walking. He just had to move. He just had to move. He just had to move.

  He started walking.

  He steps were tentative. They moved almost as if they were being dragged along the ground. He could feel himself getting closer. Both to the apartment and to the disgruntled feeling of fear. He knew if he just kept on moving it would be over and he would not have to worry about it anymore. He knew that. He just had to keep telling himself that.

  He let out a small sigh of composure once he reached the steps to the apartment. He was thankful that the apartment building Nagisa lived in was old and small, so he did not have to get buzzed in. He only had to walk up a few stairs. Just a few stairs and he would be there, he would be where he wanted to be. As he made his way up the stairs he fiddled and fussed with his hair. Trying to get it just right. He knew he was not succeeding.

  He passed three doors before finally reaching Nagisa’s one. He could hear the muffled noises of talking and laughter coming from inside.

  His arms felt like a block of ice that had been nailed to his sides. He did not know how to break free of his fear, or of his self-deprecating and criticizing nature. He just had to move his arm. It was a simple motion. One he had done many times before. He could do it.

  He lifted up his left arm in a hesitated and rigid motion. He placed the palm of his hand on the door and breathed in and out, in and out, allowing himself time to compose himself.

  He felt the river of regret move rapidly through his stomach. He thought he might throw up.

  Breathing in and out a few more times he opened his eyes.

  His hand knocked on the door as loudly as he could. Time stood still.

  Before Makoto had time to compose himself he was greeted with a bundle of blonde hair that could have only belonged to Nagisa. Nagisa looked up at him surprised.

  “Oh! Makoto, you came!”

  “Ah – y-yes, I replied to your, um, message . . .” He mumbled, eyes still glued to the ground.

  “Yes, yes, that you did,” Nagisa replied, “Well, don’t just stand there, please, come in,” Nagisa moved back to allow Makoto the space to enter. Still watching him with somewhat cautious eyes, though Makoto tried hard not to pay attention to that. Makoto took off his shoes and started to follow Nagisa through the house. Before he would forget to, Makoto tapped on Nagisa’s shoulder and gave him the bottle of sake he had brought along with him. Nagisa gave him a curt smile.

  Makoto’s senses were being drowned out by the repetitive and deafening sound of his heartbeat. He tried to not let it show on his face. He tried to cover up is anguish, though he was not sure how well he was doing. He was starting to regret his decision to come. He felt out of place. He felt like a blemish. But he felt like he no longer had any choice. He could not leave, because that would make him look weird. Maybe they would hate him. But he did not want to stay, because he knew he looked weird. He knew he looked uncomfortable. He wanted to be near his friends again more than anything, but he did not know if he wanted to be _this_ close.

  Nagisa’s loud voice brought his attention back to the room. Back to the present. “Guys! Makoto is here!”

  Everyone looked up from their conversation to see Makoto. He had never felt so small in his life. He had never felt so trampled. He had nowhere to hide. Noting he could fall behind to. It was just him, and a group of eyes he was scarily unfamiliar with. He felt disjointed and crammed together all at once. Little dots of happiness poked through his body though. He was finally able to see all of his friends. After all this time he was able to see all of them. He wanted to cry, though he was not sure from what.

  They all looked older then what they did in his memories. As if they had all become different people. He wondered if maybe they acted differently too. Maybe they truly were all different people. Makoto could not decide if that was good thing or not.

  The first person to break the silence was Rei. His hair still had a bluish tinge to it, as it did when he was younger, yet it looked more refined and dignified then it used to. His glasses were also now a dark black as opposed to his red ones that filled Makoto’s memories. Makoto knew he changed them a long time ago, yet it was still the teenage Rei that filled his memories. After not seeing him for such a long time, Rei’s teenage self was the only one Makoto held onto. That was how it was with all of his friends. He would glance at them time to time, and the gather up how they looked as adults, but he revelled primarily in their years of adolescents together. Often forgetting their changes and growths. Possibly for more selfish reasons then Makoto would ever care to admit to himself.

  “It is good to see you again, Makoto,” Rei exclaimed, standing up to shake Makoto’s hand.

  “T-thank you.”

  Rei’s grip was strong and firm. Makoto’s soft and clammy. If Makoto were to be honest, he had not shaken someone’s hand for a while. He was not entirely sure how do to it in a normal way anymore. Makoto was thankful that it appeared Rei took no mind to it.

  Makoto almost did not want to look at the two other people in room. He was scared of what his reaction would be. He had no way of dictating how he would respond to it. He could not even remember how he responded in the past. He was not angry. He was just frightened; of himself and the undetermined outcomes. He did not want to let them know that though.

  Makoto gave a small wave of his hand, trying his best not to come off as awkward and failing miserably. “Hello, Rin, H-haru,” Makoto could feel all of his confidence being sucked out of his body. He felt tired, he felt artificial and he felt out of place. His mindset was not in the right place to have come. He knew that. He did not know why he thought he could do it.

  Rin and Haru gave a small hello back. Nagisa told Makoto to have a seat. In an almost incompetent manner Makoto bulkily made his way to where the others were sitting around the chabudai. Once he sat down he stated idly playing with his thumbs in hopes of somewhat distracting himself. He could do this. He could interact with his friends. Even if he just listened, he could do it.

  He focused his mind on the contents of the table. Packs of scattered chips. Alcohol. A packet of cigarettes. An ash tray. He did not mind that some of friends now smoked, though; when he was younger it was nothing he had envisioned for them. They were just two things that never seemed as if they would ever be associated with each other. Even now, he had trouble seeing them together, even if he had witnessed them smoking in person. He sometimes clung so desperately on how things used to be, that his mind denied the existence of the present. So it always ended up feeling fictional or delusional.

  The dank smell of societal adulthood was plastered around the room. It was a smell so familiar yet so distant. He wondered if it was the smell of success and normality. Perhaps it was the smell of retribution.

  Maybe only those who had fallen behind could smell it, because they were not accustomed to the privilege of growth.

  As much has he heart pleaded him not to, Makoto caught himself glancing heavily across at Rin and Haru when he could. They were both so sharp and toned. It was easy to see that they had maintained (if not built upon) their bodies of the past. Rin had changed quite a bit. He did not have the same all-consuming atmosphere he used to possess as a younger man. He seemed more at peace with himself and the world. His smile and eyes were still filled with a passion though. It gave Makoto the feeling that Rin could snap at any moment he liked to. It was surprisingly not as unnerving as Makoto thought it should have been. Rin’s hair suited his age though. It was much shorter and softer looking then it had been when they were younger. Makoto guessed he had actually had that type of hair for many years now, but Makoto never cared to remember it.

  Haru was unchanging. No matter when Makoto saw Haru, no matter how old or where he was, Haru still looked like the Haru from his memories. His hair still a soft black, still falling around the sides of his face. His eyes still barricaded and seemingly full of apathy. He held a young glow that only someone like him could bring out. He seemed to be as quiet as Makoto, which made Makoto happy. Even if only a little bit.

  He saw Rin say something, and he saw Haru smile.

  He had to look away. It should not have hurt, not after all these years, but seeing Haru smile like that, and knowing he was not the cause, it made him feel like ashes were being shoved down his throat. He told himself not to look. He told himself it would hurt, but he ignored his own warnings of reason.

  When he looked back up at them again he saw the way Haru leaned against Rin’s broad and firm shoulders. He saw Rin’s fingers lightly trace over Haru’s arm. Their fingers intertwining. He forced himself to look away again.

  He was happy for Haru. Happiness for Haru was all he ever wanted, but that did not mean it did not sting.

  “Isn’t that great, Makoto?”

  “What?” Makoto looked up startled.

  “Rei’s promotion at work,” Nagisa repeated. “Isn’t it great?”

  “Oh, right, yes, yes, it is great,” Makoto stammered, trying to sound as proud as he could. “Congratulations, Rei.”

  “Thanks, Makoto,” Rei replied, a hint of laughter popping through his words.

  “I’m just glad that idiot Yuki didn’t get it!” Rei continued. “That guy’s a piece of work, let me tell you. He hardly ever shows up, and when he does, we never see him do any real work! The boss loves him for some reason though. I don’t understand her. Everyone was going on and on about how he was in the running for that promotion as well. If I had lost to that, well, I just would have walked out of there and gone someplace else!”

  Makoto did not understand why, but they all giggled at that. He let out a fake laugh to include himself.

  “Didn’t something similar to that happen to you a few years ago, Nagisa?” Rin asked, taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage.

  “Oh yeah, absolutely!” He laughed, his body getting animated. “Some people are just extremely pig headed, so they like to make you think something is going on when it’s not. I knew and they knew I was the best pick; they just had to put on a show for everyone else,” Makoto could feel the pride in Nagisa’s voice. He did understand though, Nagisa was an extremely talented artist. If he had Nagisa’s talents he would probably be very proud too. “Not that you two would know anything about all that, being the hot shot celebrities you are!”

  “Nagisa!” Rin cried in return. “Haru and I are hardly celebrities. Especially not me. He is the only one swimming for Japan. I am not a face of a country,” He laughed. “Though, I _really_ wouldn’t class Haru as any celebrity either,” He smiled down at Haru and rested his chin against Haru’s head.

  Makoto locked eyes with Haru before swiftly looking away.

  Makoto felt like he was being buried alive. His coffin the achievements of his friends.

  He felt awful for feeling that way, but how could he not? How could he be fully happy for them when he was so far behind and so lost? When they all met at the crossroads of life they separated. They went their own ways, and eventually got reunited. Not Makoto though. He never even took a path. He stayed, frozen, at the crossroads. Soon all he could see was the blurred backs of his once equals as they went and discovered themselves. He was physically closer to the friends of the past then the ones who sat near him. Yet he had to morn them, for he would never be able to see them again. He was not sure if he would ever fully come to terms with that. He hoped he would one day, though. He was stuck in a never ending cycle of darkness and regret. Some days he could see past the fog and continue on. Other days he was walking blind, unable to see the next pot hole or hill. Soon, he lost all hope of even trying. That lack of trying was the perfect fuel for the darkness though. It was a vicious cycle he was losing the care to change.

  He could feel the room getting tighter and tighter around him. He needed to calm himself down. He softly clenched his hands into the palms of his hands. He tried to feel the slow sting of his nails pushing into his skin.

  “Nagisa, where is your bathroom?” He whispered, keeping is eyes locked on his knees.

  “Just down the hall and the left,” Rei replied.

  Makoto took no mind of who replied and abruptly stood up. “Thank you.” He made his way down the small and _tight_ hallway. Once he found the bathroom he closed the door quickly and sank down to the floor. Counting his breathes. Trying to make them even.

  It had all become too much. He had not expected it to. Thinking of Haru, thinking of himself, and thinking of all the clouds in his heart had just set him off. He knew better then to think of those things. He knew full well what they did to him, yet it was addictive. It was frighteningly addictive. Losing control, reminding himself of everything he did not have. Replaying all the times he could have tried _more._ He knew it was destructive and it hurt.

  Maybe that was why he enjoyed it so much.

  He felt so pitiful.

  After spending a few minutes gathering his breathes into a stable position he stood up and made his way to the sink. He washed the cold water over his face and sighed.

  He could do this. He had come this far, he could do it.

  He could do it.

  He closed his eyes and composed himself before walking back out to his friends. _His Friends_.

  When he came into the space there was only Haru and Rin sitting down.

  “Oh, you’re back, Makoto,” Said Rin, “Rei and Nagisa are just getting dinner ready now. You don’t have any eating requirements do you?”

  Makoto shook his head. He did not even want to eat around them, but he knew he would look weird if he did not.

  Makoto had such an odd relationship with food. He was not scared of it, per se; he was more frightened of how others saw him with it. That was why he always preferred to eat by himself, because then only he could judge himself, and he had become much kinder to himself with food over the years. He knew they would think he was weird if he did not eat with them though. He did not want that.

  “That’s good then,” Rin continued. “So, how’s work going for you now, Makoto? I actually don’t even know what your job is.”

  Makoto felt his heart rate creeping up again. “Oh, you – you know it’s work,” He stammered. “I, ah, I just do filing and other stuff. You know.”

  Makoto internally cursed himself. He had lied about so many other things, why could he not do the same with that? He could have weaselled his way out of it. Why did he have to be so nervous?

  “Right. Okay.”

  Rin’s tone made Makoto’s heart drop even further. He was not completely embarrassed by his work. He liked it well enough to go, but telling other people about it just reinforced his lack of accomplishments. He did not want to admit to Rin, especially with Haru right next to him, that he still lived at home and only worked at a small newsagency three days a week. Who would want to admit that to people who were so accomplished and successful?

  He truly did not think it was bad thing to be that way, if someone else was that way he would not think twice about it, but he thought it was a bad thing for himself.

  He could not even look at either Rin or Haru at that point. He could not bear to see what their eyes were saying about him.

  He let out a sigh of relief when Rei and Nagisa came back into the room, bringing what appeared to be dinner with them. It smelled like hayashi rice.

  “I see you didn’t burn down the kitchen this time, Nagisa,” Rin laughed.

  “You’ll never let that go, will you?”

  “No, never.”

  “Look, Rei and I were not used to cooking with each other and we were both trying to make it great and, it just didn’t work out that way, okay?”

  “Nagisa. It’s happened more than once,” Rin laughed again, louder this time. “I’m just glad that after three years of living together you have worked out a way to _not_ set fires in the kitchen.”

  Rei and Nagisa were living with each other? No one ever told Makoto that.

  “You’re not one to judge, Rin. You don’t know the difficulties of cooking with two people. Haru does all of your cooking.”

  “Please, you think I wouldn’t be able to work with him so we don’t have any fires? I think you are forgetting, Haru and I actually work _well_ together. Unlike some people we know.”

  “Rin, just shut up and eat your food,” Rei piped in, a clear smile seeping across his face. A friendly tone apparent in his voice.

  They all gave their thanks and began to eat their food.

  Idle chatter continued as they all ate their food, Makoto did his best to try and appear as though he was listening, but he was not. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. He did not even want to think about his work tomorrow. All of his friends seemed to have so much energy; he wished he could have that much energy. They just went about life as if it was nothing, while he was struggling to drag himself through one day.

  Makoto was happy that all of his friends seemed to be doing so well. He truly was. But he did not understand why he had to have such large burden on himself. Why did he keep drawing the short straw? He tried to stay positive; he tried to not compare himself, but when even his reflection seems to understand the world better then himself, not comparing his life to those around him becomes very hard. As much as it hurts him to admit it.

  It does not want his friends to fail; he just wished he could succeed as well.

  Once everyone had finished their meals Makoto stood up. “I will clean the dishes. If that’s okay of course.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Rei and Nagisa said in unison.

  “No, no it’s alright. I insist.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you then,” Nagisa smiled, as he passed the empty bowls to Makoto.

  Makoto smiled back before he walked over to the kitchen. Once he was there he let out a long and large breathe. The room had been so suffocating. He felt like an outsider. He did not know about at least more than half of the things his friends were talking about. He had learnt so much about their lives in that short, short, span of time. How could he know so little about the people that used to be his world? He knew it was partly his own fault, but it did not make him feel any more comforted about it.

  He was pretty sure Haru had been looking oddly at him all evening too. Maybe Haru was only doing that because Makoto was looking at him. But he was sure he was not looking at Haru the way Haru was looking at him.

  He turned on the tap and let the water heat up before grabbing the bowls. He put on the light green gloves that were left near the window.

  As he was washing up the second bowl he saw Rin come into the kitchen and open the fridge to grab out another bottle of beer. He turned around when Rin started talking to him.

  “It was good that you were able to come tonight, Makoto.”

  “Yes. I’m glad I was able to,” He replied. “It – it is great that everyone was free. I’m sure work has kept us all busy and stuff. So who knows when we will all be able to do this again?” Makoto tried to make his uneven smile friendly looking.

  Rin laughed. “What are you talking about? We do this every week.”

  Makoto’s smile fell.

  “Oh, n-no, right. Of course. No, what, I meant was –what I mean is, that – I don’t know. Sorry. I did know that, I’m just tired is all. Work stress is messing with my brain and all.” Makoto laughed, though he was sure anyone would be able to tell it was strained.

  Rin laughed again before patting Makoto on the back. “All good, man.”

  After he walked away Makoto dipped his head into his hands. The warm suds on his gloves went into his fringe.

  No wonder he felt so uncomfortable. He was not meant to be there.

  After he finished the last bowl he went to the other end of the kitchen, that lead into the hall way, to grab a handtowel to dry himself. He heard Nagisa and Rin whispering in a frantic manner. Apologises and curse words being said. His name definitely being said.

  He walked away before he could clearly hear what they were saying. He did not want to know what they were saying. He turned the tap back on so it would sound like he was washing the dishes still, and he waited. After turning the water off again, he waited around ten minutes before going back to the room where everyone was sitting in.

  He wanted to go home. He was going to stick out though, he made himself a promise that he would stay until the end.

  Before he had fully entered the room he saw something he could not take after everything else.

  Haru was in Rin’s lap. Rin’s hands were rubbing circles softly around Haru’s back. Their mouths were locked and Makoto could see the red blush of Haru’s face.

  He knew that Rin and Haru kissed. He knew they would. They were together, of course they would. He never had to see it though. At least, not when he was already feeling so beaten down.

  He had no right to feel that way. He knew that. Makoto knew he had absolutely no right to feel upset. Haru and Rin were dating; they were allowed to do whatever they wanted to do. Makoto did not control them. They were not doing anything wrong. They did not owe Makoto anything.

  He knew that.

  He truly knew that.

  He could not stop the hot prickling of his eyes though. He could not stop the betrayal he felt. He could not stop the anger that whispered into his vulnerable ear.

  He could not help but feel lost.

  He wanted to go home. But he was frozen in time. Frozen in the image of his punishment for being himself.

  This was all he deserved for being Makoto.

  He carefully and hesitantly urged his way to the front door. Double checking that he had his phone in his pocket. Grabbing his bag that was purposely left right out of the way in case he had to make a quick exit.

  As he was putting on his shoes with a shaky hand, he felt someone come up behind him.

  “You leaving already?” He could tell by the voice it was Rei. He did not turn around though. He was scared if he looked anyone in the face he would break entirely. He would not be able to handle that.

  “Yes . . . sorry, I just remembered, I have to help my siblings with their homework,” Makoto explained, trying with all his might to stop his voice from shaking. “Thank you. For having me over that is.”

  “Yeah, no worries, anytime.” Makoto knew that was a lie.

  He just had to get out of the house.

  “G-give the others my regards, please.”

  Before he could fully process what Rei had said in return he was out of the apartment and rushing down the stairs. The night air felt soothing on his burning skin.

  It finally felt like he could breathe again.

  After walking for a minute Makoto sat down on the side of the road, looking up at one of the street lights. The light was dull and flickering in an uneven manner. His breathing had calmed down, though his heart still felt heavy.

  He was not even angry. He just felt lost.

  Lost and tired.

  He looked up at the night sky, it was dark with a bluish hue. It too would change though. It would not stay as it once was.

  He closed his eyes and tried to gather the energy he would need to get home.

  He had not even got to speak to Haru like he had wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I hope you all liked it. :) 
> 
> I am aware that some sections of this chapter may have been a bit frusating, however, it was all done on purpose. Anxiety and depression can be very frustarting illnesses for people to deal with, espcially when they prevent you from doing certain things. Makoto is frustarred at himself, and I want you, the readers, to also feel that frustration. Especially for those that don't have mental illnesses, I thought instead of just telling you about how frustarting it can be, I would try and help you feel a similar frustration. So, that is why certain scenes happen really quickly (perhaps ones you wanted to see more of) and other scenes are really dragged out, or heavily repeated (perhaps scenes that you would have liked to have seen move quicker).  
> I am not sure if I explained that very well, but I hope it got my point across. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reaidng and I would be honoured if you would join me for the next chapter! :)


	4. Times I Have Been To, And Times Yet To Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While looking for something from his past Makoto remembers a meloncholic yet important time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Thank you so much for reading! :) 
> 
> We will be taking a trip into the past today!
> 
> Ah, this chapter took way longer then I thought it would, and it is not super long either. I apologise for the late update, and sorry it is not overly long. I hope for next weeks chapter to be longer :) 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I thought it would be a good way to break the tension from the last chapter.
> 
> As always, if I have missed any trigger warnings you beleive I should include just let me know and I will add them ASAP! :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- N/A 
> 
>  
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self depricating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opionins that I am promotiong, bur merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both exterenally and internally. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)

  He was frantic. Something in his body was pulling him, _commanding_ him to find it. The last fifteen minutes had become a blur of irrelevance. He had one goal, and his mind would not be satisfied until he achieved it. He could not even remember what the impetus for his desperation was. It was of no importance. All of his energy was set on the task ahead.

  To find a photo.

  The blinds of his bedroom were only partly open, the mid-day heat and breeze simultaneously flowing in. His clothes were all put away, yet his bed remained crumpled. The floor of his room was covered in imagery of the past. His life lay out in front of him. Moments he struggled to remember; others he tried to forget. They all lay there. At the tips of his fingers. He did not know how many photos he had actually accumulated over the years, not until they were spread to the far corners of his room. It was almost painful for him to swim through the past like that. He reminisced on it too much as it was, he did not take kindly to the visual reminders. He persevered though, against his better judgment. His body was buzzing with a _need._ He had to find the photo. If he did not it would plague his mind too much. It would be a small bomb that would eventually drive him mad. He already knew the outcome if he did not find it. He did not need that weight resting on his mind.

  Though he was anxious, Makoto still took his time to look at the other photos that came his way. Many of them left a painful sting in his chest, yet they also brought a smile to his face. He was willing to sacrifice himself to some pain if it meant he could feel a natural smile bless his face.

  None of the photos were of the last five years or so. Most of them were from when he was little, or from when he was a teenager. He was not sure which version of himself had more photos taken of him. He did know though, that barley any photos of him were taken alone. Faces of others almost always filled the edges of the picture as much as his own. For Makoto, it felt like he was looking back on someone else’s past. Who he was and who he had become were concepts that seemed indisputably infeasible.

  Two of the photos he found truly made him crave the past. They were ones that were always past around to other family members and friends. They had gained their own form of presence in many lives. They were shared so often, in many significant moments, that they oddly felt like motifs to Makoto’s actual life. In that moment they yet again proved that feeling.

  They were photos very parallel, yet so similar, in an almost eerie fashion. They showed how so much can change, yet how little changes at the same time. In that way they scared Makoto.

  One of the photos was when Rin, Haru, Nagisa and himself had won a small swimming competition.

  The other at a swimming carnival with everyone including Rei.

  As much as they are and were fond memories for Makoto, they were also a painful reminder of what he was losing. Or what he had already lost.

  He pushed around even more photos. Some of him and Haru as little kids playing outside. Others of him and his siblings sitting in the lounge room. Those days seemed so peaceful. So innocent. Makoto often wondered if it were ever possible to gain back the naïve nature he once had. Maybe he if he did not understand the world in the manner he did, he would not have ended up where he was. Maybe living in ignorance would have been better. Or at least less lonely. After all, you have to recognize the slowly growing distance from other people to truly be lonely. Not seeing it would be far less painful.

  Makoto attempted to push aside those thoughts as he searched further. If he was not careful some of his thoughts could debilitate him for a few days.

  He found one photo that fully warmed his heart.

  He and Haru were sitting at a small park on a picnic blanket. They could not have been older than eight or nine. Like falling stars the world around them was surrounded by cherry blossom petals. The forgotten faces of strangers walking around them. Haru was leaning into Makoto’s ear, Makoto smiling eagerly. A small secret being whispered to him.

  That secret too had been forgotten and replaced with more tiresome memories.

  Makoto’s heart tugged with a melancholic feeling of loss and longing. Those days had been filled with such warmth and pure innocence. His mind in later years had been corrupted with the emotions of envy and desperation to try and prove himself. Back then he knew not of any of those emotions. At least not to the destructive nature he had grown to be so familiar with. Back then he could hold Haru’s hand and whisper meaningless secrets to him, and it _would_ mean something. Back then his biggest quarrels were about if he would be able to stay awake past nine, or if Haru would be able to play with him.

  Though, that may be a lie.

  Retrospectively, Makoto could see the breeding ground for all of his current emotions in his past. They were never as strong as they were when he got older, but the seeds had been planted. After all, his “problems” are heavily linked to his brain. At least, that is what is doctor says.

  He felt tiredness slide its hands over his chest as he continued to search for the photo, his body sensitive to its touch, though he ignored. He was determined to find it.

  After moving a few photos of birthdays out of the way, he finally found it. He finally found the photo he had been searching for.

  A huge smile of elation and relief hooked itself across his face. He could stop staring at it. He was so glad he was able to find it.

  The photo was of Nagisa, Rei, Rin, Haru and himself sitting at a bus stop in an old town. All of them looking tired and worn out. The ruggedness of new adventures and accomplishments stitched over their faces and clothes. Haru had even shown the shadow of a small smile. In that moment Makoto had never felt so close to all of his friends. He felt as though they were fused together in a way that you only hear about in poetry. As though their connections had no limits.

  The trip itself had not even been entirely eventful, and things were said and done that should have ideally been avoided. However, they all came back together, and that meant something to Makoto. He thought the things said and done had not affected anyone. He thought it was proof of their love and devotion to each other; proving that even through the most unforeseen events they would all make it out. Later years had proved him wrong, but Makoto still held onto that day. He had never let it go, and he never planned to.

  If nothing else it proved to him that he could always take that extra step, even if everything else around him was trying to convince him he could not.

***

_Nagisa had fallen asleep. His small head resting against Rei’s shoulder._

_The train was rickety and swaying slightly as it travelled along the tracks. The carriage was small, yet still comfortable. Rin and Haru had been staring at nothing, both of them occupied with the music playing through their phones. Rei had been trying to awkwardly read his novel without disturbing Nagisa._

_Makoto was standing next to the seat that Haru sat in, trying to stretch his legs before the train got into the station they were getting off at. His eyes were occupied with the blurred images of nature rushing past the windows of the train. All of the colours blending and mixing into one._

_They had all been heading up to Rin’s uncle’s house out in the country, to watch it for a few days while he was away. It was not something Makoto had thought they would ever do, but at the time he enthusiastically went along. A few days away with his friends in a small town seemed like the perfect idea to him. He thought it would have been a good time for them all to get closer._

_Through his peripheral vision Makoto glimpses at Haru – at the small wisps of dark hair that covered his eyes as he looked down at his phone. Makoto was probably most excited to spend the time with Haru. For him, at the time, high school had ended for Rin, Haru and Makoto, and Rei and Nagisa had just gone on summer vacation; they had all been so busy fulfilling their obligations that the innominate distance had covered them all quicker than anticipated._

_Haru had been busier than Makoto anticipated._

_The time away was an opportunity for Makoto, and he was bubbling with joy over it._

_He continued to stare out the window, with a warm smile on his._

_Once they had pulled into the small station they had all gathered their items and started trudging their way up to the bus stop._

_“Rei, I’m so tired. I can’t keep on walking,” Nagisa moaned, his head dropping dramatically._

_“Stop complaining, you’ll be fine. It’s only about a ten minute walk,” Rei replied._

_“But, Rei, I’m sooo tired. I can’t~,” Nagisa said, with a grin splitting across his face._

_Rei sighed. “Would you like me to carry your bags then, Nagisa?”_

_Nagisa beamed as he handed his bags over to Rei and giving him a hug. Even back then Nagisa knew he had Rei wrapped around his little finger. Rei never seemed to mind though._

_Makoto smiled at them as they walked ahead, still bickering amongst each other. It was quite humorous to Makoto, seeing small and boyish Nagisa having so much control over the willing but stern Rei. He was glad they had each other, since at that point everyone else in the friend group had left school; he would have felt awful if either Nagisa or Rei had felt alone because of it. They suited each other very well, in Makoto’s opinion, for him it seemed they balanced each other out and brought the best out of each other._

_The air was dry, yet surprisingly warm. Makoto could smell the fresh and intoxicating scents of a homely foreign area. It was a peculiar scent, but it calmed Makoto. It cleared his mind and helped him forget about the confusions surrounding his life._

_He had never expected things in his life to change so quickly. Before he knew it he had been accepted into a course at university he honestly had no interest in doing, Rin and Haru had moved to Australia for swimming, and the days washed over him in ways he never thought were possible. Time moved so quickly, yet it felt oddly stagnant in Makoto’s mind. Back then though, Makoto had no real idea or confidence about addressing aspects of life that concern him, he, regrettably, just pushed them aside and convinced himself he was being fickle or unnecessarily panicky. He just tried to worry less about the things he knew were going to change._

_Like Haru’s location._

_He knew Rin and Haru were moving back to Japan, so he told himself not to worry about the fact they were far away. Telling yourself to do something and actually doing it were two entirely things though. Especially for Makoto._

_Once they reached the bus stop Nagisa and Rei collapsed against the wooden seats, panting. They did not have to wait long for the bus to come and collect them. The bus was practically empty, apart from the elderly gentleman that sat at the back, and most likely asleep considering the way his had been lolled to the side._

_The seats of the bus had held a deep and musky scent that seeped itself into Makoto’s clothes. The windows were washed over with a thin layer of dust and dirt. None of them spoke to each other as they travelled along in the old bus. From where Makoto was sitting it had appeared Nagisa was resting his head against Rei’s shoulder, most likely taking a nap. Rin was still on his phone and Haru was looking out the window, lost in his own world, like most of the time._

_After around twenty minutes the bus pulled up at their stop and they started walking again. After five minutes of walking they had finally made it to Rin’s Uncle’s house. It was surprisingly larger then Makoto had envisioned. The late afternoon glow that was reaching for night spread over the horizon, bringing with it the soft buzzing of bugs and the bustling noise of people returning home from work._

_They entered the house, taking their shoes off, and making their way to the sitting room._

_“Alright guys, you can just go and leave your bags in the spare room down the hall and we can work our sleeping arrangements later,” Rin said. “I’m goin’ to go and see if I can find something to cook for dinner in the kitchen. Make yourselves at home; I’ll come and find you all when I have some food,” He grinned before walking off._

_They all placed their bags away before going back to the sitting room._

_“Hey, hey, Rei, want to go for a walk to the sweet shop Rin said was here?” Nagisa asked, enthusiastically._

_“What? But you were complaining about walking just before. I’m_ not _going to carry you,” Rei responded._

_“Rei, this is different! This is for sweet treats! I always have energy for sweet treats,” He retorted. “It’ll be fun, I swear.”_

_Rei sighed. “Okay. Fine. It is a pretty nice evening anyway.”_

_“Yes! Awesome. Makoto, Haru, would you two like to come too?”_

_Makoto looked over at Haru and saw a face he recognised all too well. “Thanks, Nagisa, but I think Haru and I are a little tired. We’ll just stay here I think,” Makoto said. “Thanks though.”_

_“That’s okay. We’ll see you guys later. Could you tell Rin where we will be?”_

_“Sure, no worries,” Makoto smiled. “Just make sure you guys get back before it’s too late.”_

_“Of course,” Rei said, while he walked to the door. “See you guys later.”_

_Makoto gave them a small wave before they left the house. When he turned back he noticed Haru had gone outside and sat down on the small wooden porch._

_He made his way to the kitchen where he saw Rin over the sink washing the rice._

_“You need any help, Rin?”_

_“Hm?” Rin turned around. “Oh, Makoto. No, that’s alright. Thanks though. It seems as though we’ll just be having some rice, chicken, and more rice for dinner,” He laughed._

_“I could go down to the store if you’d like. I don’t mind,” Makoto suggested. “Rei and Nagisa have already headed out, so I could catch up with them.”_

_“Nah, this stuff has to be used up anyway. We can all go down to the store tomorrow. This won’t take too long to cook either, which is good, ‘cause I need to call my uncle about some stuff before it gets too late.”_

_“Okay, well, if you’re sure. Just let me know if you need any help with something.”_

_“Yeah sure, man. Thanks,” Rin grinned._

_“That’s alright,” Makoto said before walking back out of the kitchen. He saw Haru was still sitting outside, staring out at nothing. He thought of just leaving Haru, as he appeared to need some space, but he also knew how Haru could get, so he thought offering his company would be a more suitable option._

_As he opened the door that lead onto the porch he saw the sudden yet subtle stiffness of Haru’s back._

_“It’s alright, it’s just me,” He whispered, before sitting down next to Haru._

_Makoto just quietly stayed next to Haru. He knew Haru would speak when he was ready. Sometimes Haru did not even need to talk about the thoughts weighing on his mind; sometimes he just needed to know that someone noticed something was amiss._

_Makoto could feel the shallow and deep breathes Haru was taking, but he still waited patiently. Even though they were not touching, Makoto could feel the turmoil and thoughts that were rolling around through Haru’s head. He could feel the tension of those thoughts._

_The dark colours of the night continued to crawl over their surroundings as Makoto and Haru sat there, the chill of the air becoming more prominent._

_After some time passed, Makoto heard the soft and unsure voice of Haru._

_“Makoto . . . can I ask you a question?”_

_Makoto turned his face to the side – to Haru’s face. “Of course, Haru.”_

_“Do you think I’m meant for love?”_

_Makoto froze. Out of all the things he had expected Haru to ask him, that was most certainly not it. “What kind of love, Haru?”_

_“Just . . . love,” Haru whispered._

_“But, I mean, Haru, there are so many different kinds of love out there.”_

_“Am I meant for any of it?”_

_“Of course!” Makoto raised his voice; angling his body to his face was closer to Haru’s. “Haru, you deserve lots of love. What on earth made you think you didn’t?”_

_“What about romantic love? Do you think I’m meant for that?”_

_“If-if that is something you want, then yes, Haru,” Makoto replied, still perplexed by the conversation. He was still unsure of where it was going or what was the meaning of it._

_“But wanting something is not always enough, Makoto. I know it’s not.”_

_“No, you’re right, it’s not,” He agreed, hesitantly. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it. Because you do.”_

_“Even when I’m the way I am?”_

_“Haru, there’s nothing wrong with the way you are._ Nothing _.”_

_Haru turned his face to Makoto’s, like spilled ink anguish covered every curve of it. “But I feel like there is, Makoto. I know what I want, but I feel like I’m being greedy. I feel like I’m asking for too much. I’m not good at – I can’t get my feelings out when I need to and I don’t know how to tell people what I want.”_

_“That’s not true. Sometimes it takes you a little while, but you can tell people what you want. You tell me what you want.”_

_“You’re different though, Makoto . . .”_

_“Maybe. But it still shows you are capable of it,” Makoto said, touching his hand on Haru’s shoulder. “You’re capable of so many incredible things. And you absolutely deserve love.”_

_“Even if I’m difficult? Even if I remind the person I love of something they can’t have?”_

_Makoto had become very confused at that point. He did not even know Haru liked someone. He did not know Haru had been harbouring such intense thoughts and emotions for such a long time._

_An intrusive and selfish thought flashed through Makoto’s mind. It was one that did not last for more than a second or two, but it was one he would feel exceptionally guilty over for years to come. Even if he had not acted on it. Had had felt jealous – he wanted to give Haru the wrong advice._

_Makoto took a deep breathe. “People feel jealous and envy all the time, Haru. It’s not nice but it’s true. That’s just how we are, most of the time people want to be the best,” He said, cautiously. “But I don’t think that is a bad thing. At least, not all the time. If someone really cares about you, and you treat them well, they will get over that envy and jealously. You having an accomplishment is not a bad thing. Not inherently. Someone will always feel bad because you have achieved. Sometimes when people see the ones they are closest to achieve something it can remind them of their own failures, but when push comes to shove, that should not affect anything. Not if you really care about them and they care about you. There may also come a day where you are jealous of what they can do. But if you talk about, I think it’ll all work out.”_

_“You really think that?”_

_“I mean, every situation is different. But yes, I do.”_

_“I’m just really confused . . . no, I don’t think confused is the right word,” Haru mumbled. “I think I’m just scared. I don’t want to screw up, Makoto. I don’t want to be a failure.”_

_“We can’t always win, Haru. I know losing, or not getting something right can be scary ... trust me, I do. The whole world expects us to do so many things, but it’s just not possible. If you really love someone though, I think that is a risk you may have to take eventually. It’s okay to fall,” Makoto said. “I’m not too strong, and I can’t do everything, but I promise I will be here for you when you succeed and if you fall.”_

_“You promise?” Haru whispered, his eyes growing dewy._

_“Yes, absolutely.”_

_Haru wrapped his arms around Makoto, tucking his head into the nape of his neck. Back then, Makoto had forgotten how small Haru had been. He was swiftly reminded as he wrapped his arms him though. The faint smell of Haru’s conditioner tickled Makoto’s nose._

_He did not want to let go. He wanted to hold Haru like that for the rest of the night; he wanted to let time evaporate around them. He had to let go though. Haru’s heart was thumping for someone that was not him._

_He was just going to wait. That was what he told himself. He would wait and Haru would come to him when he was ready. As a friend or a lover, Makoto would always stay by Haru’s side. Forever._

_“I think I’m going to go and wash up,” Haru murmured into Makoto’s shoulder before standing up and walking to the back door._

_He turned back around, where he saw Makoto still looking at him. “Thank you, Makoto,” He said, before he walked back inside._

_Makoto continued to stay outside. He felt his heart racing and did not want to take himself back inside before he calmed it down. He felt an odd mixture of regret and selfishness. Haru owed him nothing, he knew that. He wanted to be there for Haru and help him. Yet he still felt like a rusted knife had lodged itself into his ankle. Emotionally debilitating him._

_He did now know back then that rust would spread through is body and poison his soul. That it would add to the timer already starting to count down in his mind._

_Makoto had been pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Nagisa and Rei return, with Rin calling for dinner shortly after._

_After they all ate dinner Makoto washed the dishes while the others worked out the sleeping arrangements. Walking into the sitting room Makoto saw Rei and Nagisa whispering to each other._

_“What are you two talking about?” He asked. “Why are all of our bags out here?”_

_“Oh, Makoto! Perfect timing!” Nagisa responded. “We need your help to move all of our stuff to the room out the back.”_

_“Nagisa, that didn’t answer my question. And why do we need to move them all the way out the back? There are two rooms in this part of the house,” Makoto retorted. “You might remember one of them – you just took all of our bags out of it.”_

_“But we can’t stay in the main part of the house, Makoto. We have to go to the back part.”_

_“You’re being awfully ambiguous right now, Nagisa.”_

_“We’re giving Haru and Rin some space,” Rei chimed in. “We think they need it.”_

_“What’s wrong with Rin and Haru?” Makoto asked._

_“Noting, nothing, Makoto,” Nagisa assured. “We just think they would benefit from some alone time.”_

_“Again, Nagisa, you’re being awfully ambiguous. I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”_

_Rei spoke up again. “We thought Haru and Rin had broken up, because they were acting up; but from the sounds of things they are going much better. We thought it was the best opportunity for us to strike and allow them some alone time, so we are giving them the house for while we are here. The three of us can all sleep in the back.”_

_“Wait –_ what _? Rin and Haru are dating? I thought that -”_

_“Formalities, formalities!” Nagisa pressed. “Would you please help us move the bags into the back room?”_

_Makoto never remembered the rest of that night very well. He could never recall if he felt upset or angry. It all just washed over him. He did remember coming to peace with the situation. For the most part. He remembered that he still enjoyed the time he spent with his friends and the memories they all made. He remembered never feeling closer to them._

_Though he often wondered if he only told himself that to feel better._

_Or because it was one of the last times they all got together with Makoto there, in a way that made him feel needed._

_Maybe he had just clung onto it in the way he wished he had held onto Haru._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! <3 I hope you all have a wonder ful day!
> 
> Also, I hope to include some of Makoto's asexuality in the next chapter, so stay tuned! :D


	5. An Unexpected Smile From The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto meets someone who is a catalyst for some change he did not know he was capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!! :) Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I am so sorry it took an extra week to get out, I had so much work that it had to take the back seat for a little bit. Hopefully everything will be back on track next week!
> 
> As always, if I miss any trigger warnings please send me a message and I will add it as soon as I can! :) 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Panic Attacks  
> \- Aversion To Eating In Public  
> \- Light Mention On Depression (not explicitly stated)  
> \- Negative Thoughts/ Social Opinions On Asexuality  
> \- Internalized homophobia (Mild mentions) 
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, bur merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both externally and internally.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

  All things considered, Makoto was feeling okay.

  He had had a shower. He got dressed. He went outside on his own accord and he had decided to walk through the shopping district. Days like that were few and far between, though when they did grace Makoto with their presence, he revelled in them. He had not expected one, not after everything that had happened. His heart was notorious for working in odd and uncorrelated ways. Even if it was merely a façade of denial or wish fulfilment Makoto would never turn up the opportunity to somewhat enjoy going outside. Even if it only lasted a day.

  Being a Sunday, the stores were crowed and filled with adolescences. They walked in their small packs, still vibrant with the type of energy that only comes with being young and full possibly misguided confidence. Makoto thought it was endearing. He could not help but smile at it. His heart slightly stang at the loss of his own youth and the mourning that inevitably came along with the remembrance of it. It was an emotion he boxed away in the moment though. He was determined to not let himself slip before he at least got home. He would enjoy his time in the shopping district. He _would_.

  Not that he had a choice in the matter.

  Makoto purposefully took the long way around the back to the sweets store. Going any other way would force him to walk past the swimwear store, and that was something he knew wholeheartedly he would not be able to handle waking past. Not then. Maybe not ever.

  Walking past the rich smelling odours of cooking meats and roasted food made him salivate. The warmth of the stores and the pushing people was comforting in that moment. In normal situations it would have been too overwhelming for him, but in that moment it was a taste of what Makoto had convinced himself he was missing out on. It was a bittersweet moment.

  Once he reached the sweets store he looked around at all of the options. The walls were filled to the brim with plastic containers and glass jars full of foreign treats. He was fairly sure that was the only store in a decent amount of area that stocked sweets from places other than Japan. It was not overly large, but the selection was vast and diverse.

  He and Haru used to go there a lot together when they were little boys.

  He held no resentment to it though; for his siblings went with him a lot too. Whenever he was feeling like he had the right mindset to go out, he would always try and go to that store and buy a treat for his little brother and sister. It always made him feel better. It made him feel like he was not _entirety_ an embarrassment as an older brother. Just because he felt that way though did not mean he believed it. He had become good at lying, so he never really believed much of what he tried to tell himself. He would still try though.

  Maybe one day he would believe himself.

  Maybe one day he would fall into the façade of long happiness. Maybe.

  He was waiting for that day.

  “Hello dear,” Mrs. Kurosaki greeted him. She was probably one of Makoto’s favourite people, even if he did not know her very well. She was a fragile elderly woman with arms like broken tree branches and hair like a spider’s web covered in early morning dew. She had been running the store for as long as he could remember. She always spoke to him kindly.

  “Hello Mrs. Kurosaki,” He greeted back, with a small smile and wave.

  “Would you like to get something from our new selection?”

  “The new stuff has already come in?”

  “Yes of course! We have chocolates and lollipops from America.”

  “I think I’ll take a few chocolate then, Ren and Ran love chocolate.”

  She laughed. “A very good choice. Come around to the front and I will package it up for you.”

  He followed and weaved his way through the thin pathways until he reached the front counter. Mrs. Kurosaki started wrapping his chocolates in pink tissue before placing them into a soft yellow bag with green silky ribbons as the handle.

  After paying Mrs. Kurosaki he thanked her one last time and made his way back out of the store. The large bustle of people had somewhat died down and he was no longer brushing shoulders with everyone he passed. He thought going to the park would be a great idea before he went home. He was going to stretch his good mood for as long as he could. Makoto loved reading in the warmth of the outdoors in a park, yet it was an activity the he could almost never do in recent years. He yearned for a taste of the past. So he was going to do it, even if just for a little while, while he could. Hopefully it would be long enough to bide him over until he could do it again.

  He started to walk down the pathway outside. It had the atmosphere of a small alleyway, yet the road was next to it.

  The strong smell of running cars passed over his face as he made his way around the concrete corner. A few people sat down on the ground outside a shop window. As he walked past them he approached the next corner he stopped dead in his tracks.

  A man was bent down on the ground with a scattering of papers surrounding him. He looked as though he was trying to pick up everything that he had dropped, yet was struggling due to the shaking of his body.

  Makoto slowly and hesitantly bent down in front of him. He could see that the man had no noticeable bleeding cuts or marks on him. Makoto was relived.

  He moved a little closer to the lanky man.

  “Um, excuse me?” He quietly mumbled. “A-are you okay? Would you like some help picking these up?”

  The man remained quiet. The bony yet strong looking build of his body moved in a rhythmic motion with his uneven breaths. Small balls of sweat clung and dripped down the curve of his neck. The tips of his hair in his loose bun moved with him. Apathetically knocking the beads of his sweat. Makoto could see the man was looking straight at the ground – Makoto _knew_ that look though. He knew it very well. He knew that man was not looking at the ground, not really. He was looking at the small little details of it. He was looking at what category each small section of the ground would fit into. He was seeing what he could touch, what he could smell, and the way the stones sat and cracked. He was grounding himself.

  Makoto knew that it was probably better not to touch the man while he was doing that. He was already focusing on so much he did not need to deal with the stress of someone he did not know trying to ask him questions. So Makoto waited. He would wait until that man was calm and _then_ he would ask him if he needed some help. Not knowing how long it would take Makoto sat against the wall about half a meter away from where the man was. He did not know how much space the man would need. He knew everyone was different. So he gave him as much space as he could in that situation.

  A few people walked past and looked oddly at the pair of them, but Makoto tried to pay no mind to them. He just looked the other and continued to wait.

  Makoto was not sure how much time had passed, though he estimated around five or six minutes, he saw the man take a long breath and straighten his back. Makoto knew that he was coming back then, so he walked over and squatted himself in front of him again.

  “Hello,” He said. “Are you okay? Would you like some help?” Replaying the question in his head a few times before asking that time gave Makoto the confident sounding edge he had hoped he had when he first asked the question.

  The man lifted his head. His face looked flushed. The strained years of heartache were etched around the edge of his face. Yet it held a hopeful and youthful tinge that gripped Makoto. Though he looked older, Makoto could tell he would not have been much older than himself. There was something in his eyes and in the sheen of them that convinced him of that.

  Makoto continued to look at him. Waiting for his response. He saw the man’s face turn from one of confusion to questioning. Makoto could see the cogs turning in the man’s face. He did not mind though. He knew what it was like to have the weight of your own emotions suffocate you. He knew what it felt like to have people walk away from you because of it.

  “Makoto?” He asked. His voice deep and husky. “Makoto Tachibana. Is that you?”

  Makoto was taken aback. He felt bad for not recognising the man. He had no idea how he would have known him. He was glad that he had fully calmed down though.

  “Yes?” He replied meekly.

  The man sat up straighter. Intrigue oozing from him. The old feeling of fear an old song softly playing in the back of his mind. “It’s me; Sousuke. Sousuke Yamazaki,” He said eagerly. “Rin’s friend.”

  Makoto could feel a warm smile spreading across his face. He had not seen Sousuke since his last year of high school. In all honesty he had not even seen that much of Sousuke when he was younger, but he was a strong presence in his memories. That was the kind of person Sousuke was; a strong presence. The person that was in front of him was not one he would have associated with the man he used to know. It was a change that did not make him uneasy though, to his surprise. It was oddly almost a comfort to Makoto. Maybe that was because he barely saw Sousuke when he was younger. It made Makoto feel guilt to admit it, but he thought that must have been because for all impressionable as Sousuke was back then; his own identity was not something he had in Makoto’s mind. To Makoto he was always ‘Sousuke; Rin’s best friend.’

  “Sousuke! It’s good to see you again,” He replied. “Though I suppose the circumstances could have been better.”

  Sousuke blushed. “Ah, yes, I wish it was.”

  Makoto laughed. “Would you like some help?” There was something about Sousuke that made Makoto calm. That was something he noticed had not changed. Makoto was always someone who would be uncomfortable talking to people, yet he never was with Sousuke. Sousuke was just so large, that Makoto did not have to feel like _he_ had to be the biggest person in the room. Sousuke took the limelight off him. He was an easy person to talk to. Makoto was glad that that memory had not changed.

  “Yes, please, Makoto,” He said, as he started to collect up some of the papers.

  Makoto smiled and also started collecting the scattered papers. He hoped they did not have to be in any order. Once they had both collected the papers Makoto put out his arm and helped Sousuke up. Sousuke was still a little taller than Makoto. It was a felling he was not used to. He liked it a lot.

  Sousuke’s body had also changed over the years. Though not down the same line as Makoto’s had. Sousuke had become rather thin and wiry. His shoulders were still as broad as the horizon though. His face looked more slender then it used to, Makoto thought his new long hair probably added to that.

  “Thanks, for all the help,” Sousuke chimed in. “Sorry you had to see all that.”

  “Oh,” Makoto said, shocked. “No, that’s okay. Nothing you need to apologise for. Are you okay though?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright. Just had a _moment_ is all.”

  “Nothing to be embarrassed over. I’m glad you’re alright though,” Makoto said. “Do you need to talk about any of it? I can be a great listener.”

  Sousuke laughed, shaking his head. A smile was clearly on his face. “Geez, only you would do that, Makoto.”

  “Oh. S-sorry I didn’t mean to-”

  “It’s not a bad thing!” He laughed. “It was actually a compliment, Makoto. I know we didn’t see all that much of each other when we were younger. But I figured you out pretty damn quick. Only you would see some random dude having a wacked out break down on the middle of the street and help him out, and then ask him if he needed a shoulder. Man, you haven’t changed all that much.”

  “But you aren’t just some random ‘dude’, I _do_ know you,” Makoto smiled.

  Sousuke chuckled. “As I said, you haven’t changed a bit,” He repeated. “But if you’re offering, I could go for a coffee and a catch up?”

  “I mean, I’m not really thirsty or anything, and I wouldn’t want-”

  “Then would you like to accompany me while I have coffee?” Sousuke jumped in. “And catch up? I get to see heaps of the Haru and the other two, but I haven’t been able to catch up with you at all.”

  Makoto felt a stab in his chest. It felt like his throat had filled up with hot tar. He did not want Sousuke to see though, so he bit his tongue and just nodded.

  Sousuke smiled.

  Together, in silence, they went along the pathway. Makoto walked a few steps behind Sousuke. His eyes wavered between his shoes and Sousuke’s back. They walked down a small lane way that took them to a small café. Makoto had never seen it before. It was filled with murky lights and dark wooden tables. Most people who were there looked alternative and distant. There were no windows and the walls smelt like old dust and sheds. There were taps sticking out of the wall with wooden tables under them and piles of glass cups.

  By the way Sousuke was smiling and waving at the baristas it convinced Makoto that he went there often. It almost made him forget that not that long ago he saw Sousuke having a panic attack on the street. Emotions were funny that way. They never seemed to hold any consistency. They would just run through a person’s hand like dried sand – getting clumped and wet when least convenient.

  Once they found a table to sit at Sousuke let out an audible sigh and rubbed his hands over his face.

  “So, Makoto,” He said. “What’s new with you? What’re you up to?”

  “Nothing much,” Makoto cursed himself for his ambiguous answer. He never handled those things well. He should have just helped Sousuke and been on his way. Two-way conversations just did not fit him. He stayed hopeful though, he was hoping Sousuke’s comfortable nature would start to guide himself to a state where he was not so awkward in their conversations.

  “‘Nothing much’? Well, that seems exciting,” Sousuke laughed.

  “What about you?” Makoto was hoping he could just get Sousuke to do most of the talking, it would make things easier for him.

  “I’m just a freelance editor, nothing fancy, but it pays the bills and all, so you know,” Makoto could see that Sosuke’s eyes appeared distant. As if he was re-living in that moment a part of the past. “You know about my shoulder right?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Yeah, well it seems I fucked it up enough that it couldn’t be fixed. I still can’t lift it all that high. So all that I’d planned on doing was no longer an option. I didn’t have any plans, because all the plans I _did_ have involved my shoulder not being a piece of broken shit, you know? So I had no idea where to go. I worked at a convenience store for a few years, but even that became hard when I couldn’t lift half the stuff they asked me to. Around that time Rin suggested I enter editing and all that jazz, and I’ve been in it ever since.”

  “Gosh, that seems pretty rough, Sousuke. I’m glad you found something though.”

  “Yeah, so am I. As I said, it ain’t anything special, but it’s something. And I don’t hate it, so that’s a plus.”

  “Well that’s the main thing then.”

  Before Sousuke could respond, the waiter came over.

  “Are you ready to order, sir?” He asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll just have a medium black coffee, please,” Sousuke said. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” He asked Makoto.

  Makoto nodded.

  “That’s all, thanks,” He told the waiter.

  Sousuke turned back to Makoto.

  “You still do any swimming?” He asked Makoto.

  “Oh, no. No, I don’t swim anymore. I haven’t swum in years . . .”

  “That’s a shame. You were always so good at it. You could have gone professional if you really wanted to. At least, I always used to think so when we were younger.”

  “Me? Oh no. I never would have stood a chance. You _did_ see how Rin and Haru swam, right?”

  “So? You were still very talented,” Sousuke retorted. “I was so intrigued by your style; it seemed like something that couldn’t be replicated.”

  “Well, thank you. But no, I really wouldn’t have stood a chance at all. Besides, swimming was never something I wanted to pursue. I just liked being able to hang out with all my friends.”

  “You mean Haru?” Sousuke smirked.

  “N-no! Not just Haru . . . I was happy to spend time with all of them . . .”

  “Well, I guess you’re lucky then.”

  “What? How?”

  “I still mean what I said, I think you would have stood a chance, but the competitive swimming world can be intense. It’s brutally relentless. Even if you had the skills it would have cut you down. You might not have been able to handle it. Not too many people can handle it. I’m honestly surprised Haru has lasted as long as he has.”

  “Was there really any doubt with H-haru though?”

  Sousuke laughed. “Nah, I guess not. He’s something else that one. You almost feel privileged to lose to him.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  As Makoto looked directly at Sousuke he saw a face of achievements. He saw a strong and reassured man. He saw the cracks and the weeds beneath the surface too though. He was not sure if that face of courage was a façade to the crumbling man below, or if Sosuke in his entirety was a man of fulfilment and lose. Through a world of black and white, in those small few moments he had seen Sosuke, he was a grey middle that confused and comforted him.

  Sousuke leaned back in his chair, grinning.

  “What?” Makoto asked.

  “Nah, its nothing. I’m just glad I got you talking. You were always so passive,” He chuckled. “It seems though with a bit of light chatter you pop right out! I’m glad.”

  Makoto felt his voice lodge in his throat. He was saved by the waiter bringing Sousuke his coffee. It gave him the snippets of time he needed to gather back his thoughts and not slip past the footing he had made.

  “So, Makoto,” Sousuke said. “What do you _actually_ do?”

  “What?”

  He grinned. “Come now, don’t you think I noticed that little diversion trick you played on me when I asked before? I know I can be thick, but I ain’t that dense that I didn’t pick up on it.”

  “I-I mean, I, um-,” Makoto averted his eyes. He felt trapped. He felt like he had to get out but he was incapable of moving. He rubbed his fingers together, lightly cracking them.

  “Hey, man,” Sousuke sat up and started stretching his hand across the table to Makoto. “It’s alright. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

  “A newsagency,” Makoto whispered; his voice dry.

  “What?”

  “I-I work at a newsagency . . . a small one, three days a week,” Makoto could not bring himself to look up. His eyes were firmly planted on the cracked table. His vision was becoming blurred with the slow blossom of tears he was using all his strength to not let fall. His body did not know how to handle uttering those words. He had never told anyone besides his family where he worked. It was something he had hidden deep down in a place he thought he did not have to key to. He did not even know Sousuke all that well, yet his mind was relinquishing all its secrets to him. It felt like a gate had been forced open. As bitter and ill as he felt in that moment, he also felt powerful. Maybe he would be able to share other secrets. Maybe he would be able to clear out the clutter in his mind and feel light for the first time in years. Maybe he had taken the first important step he never knew he needed to take.

  “That’s awesome, man,” Sousuke said.

  Makoto shot his head up, where he saw Sousuke grinning at him.

  “H-huh?”

  “Yeah, it sounds awesome. Like a nice and easy going job,”

  “Um, yes, yes it is. Thank you.”

  “Nah, thank you for telling me.”

  “T-that’s okay,” Makoto could feel the roots of a smile sprouting across his face.

  Sousuke rubbed his hands together. “Right! We have the base of a good conversation here! Let’s roll with it, what do you say?”

  “O-okay!”

  “Great, that’s what I like to hear! Rin and Haru are the only two people I get to have them with lately, and that bugs me, ‘cause they just say the same stuff over and over again. Not to mention seeing them together just clicks the wrong way with me some days, as awful as it sounds,” Sousuke saw Makoto shift in his seat to that. “Oh! You too?”

  “I mean, I don’t hate them together or anything . . . I just, I don’t know I-”

  “It just makes you sad, right?”

  “What? No, wait, I-I didn’t mean it like that,” Makoto responded quickly, his words crushing together.

  “Makoto, its fine. It makes me sad too. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “You? But w-why?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I feel left behind,” Sousuke shrugged. “It just reminds me of everything I _don’t_ have. It’s so many years ago now, but it used to be just Rin and I, then he went to school with you and Haru and it all changed. Suddenly I wasn’t what he needed anymore. I wasn’t the person he looked at anymore. I don’t own Rin or nothing, but I feel like Haru stole him from me. I’m happy that Rin found someone he cares about, and he is not so pent up with anger like he was when we were younger, but it hurts that I wasn’t able to be the one to do that for him. As close as I get to him, I’ll never have the same pedestal that Haruka Fuckin’ Nanase has. Haru has everything I don’t, he still gets to swim and be with Rin. I guess that bugs me sometimes.”

  Makoto sat in shock. He had not expected Sosuke to say anything in that regard. “Is-is it because you love Rin, Sousuke?”

  “Of course I love him.”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  Sousuke smiled dimly at Makoto. The past and the future reflected in his eyes. “Yeah, I suppose I am. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

  “No! No, not at all. Love is never pathetic, Sousuke.”

  “Even if it has been one-sided as long as it has?”

  “I-I think one-sided love can be beautiful sometimes.”

  Sousuke sat up, intrigued. “Yeah? How so?”

  Makoto felt a lump bob in his throat as he gathered together his thoughts. “I mean, when you love someone, whether it be platonic or romantic, you’re allowing yourself something right?”

  “. . . Right.”

  “Yeah, well, I think that’s pretty beautiful. S-some people don’t think they are worth an awful lot, so to let themselves love like that, they are allowing themselves the possibility of happiness. It means they haven’t lost to themselves yet. It can be the silver lining in a dark time.”

  “I don’t know, life can be pretty grim and dark when your heart breaks every time you see the person you love unconditionally care more about someone else.”

  “Yes . . . but you’re letting yourself be hurt by them. You’re allowing yourself something. I don’t know, but I think sometimes you can get to a point where you don’t let yourself feel much of anything. But when you love someone, one-sided or not, you let yourself feel the happiness of the possibility of being with them, and you let yourself be hurt by them. You a-are letting yourself feel _something_.”

  “Do you think feeling pain is better than feeling nothing?”

  Makoto rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “N-no . . . not exactly. That’s not really what I mean. What I mean is that feeling pain is a step in the right direction to feeling acceptance or, if you are lucky, maybe even happiness. And with one-sided love, you get to walk away without necessarily losing the person.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. Normally if you date someone you like, you will end up breaking up, and then it can be awkward and uncomfortable, so you might lose them. But if it is one-sided you can experience their love in your mind, and then if you move on and no longer feel that way about them, nothing has to change. They don’t have to leave your life.”

  “Huh, I guess I never thought about it that way,” Sousuke said with a small smirk. “It still fucking sucks and hurts like hell though.”

  Makoto let out a soft laugh. “Oh yeah, defiantly.”

  “I’m almost scared to ask, but I take it you speak from experience?”

  “Um, yeah, I suppose I do in some regards.”

  “I guess both of our hearts have been squashed by the infamous Haruka Nanase? Hmm?”

  Makoto shook his head, his smile still tightly pulled against his face. “Haru never broke my heart. At least, not in the way I assume you’re thinking.”

  Sousuke took a sip of his coffee. The air around them both felt warm and welcoming. Makoto was genuinely surprised at how easy it was to talk to Sousuke. He was so grateful that he ran into Sosuke on one of his rare good days. He never thought he would have had an opportunity to talk about the weights on his heart the way he had. He had always assumed that one day they would just explode and he would have to clean up the mess. But Sousuke had turned the tap and now his feelings were drizzling out in an addictive manner. He almost wanted to exploit it as much of it as he could. Almost.

  Makoto could tell Sousuke was hesitant. He could feel he was trying to hold back a question, but Makoto also knew that Sousuke would not back down. He knew he would find a way to ask Makoto what he wanted to.

  “What happened between you and Haru?” Sousuke queried, his voice husky and mellow. “I’ve asked Rin, but he refuses to tell me. Haru doesn’t talk about as much as he used to, and you never come along to events anymore. At least that’s all Rin told me. I always figured you were too busy, but when Rei and Nagisa even started showing up to events that Rin and I held you still never showed up.”

  “I-I don’t know what happened, Sousuke . . .”

  “Now, that can’t be true. You must know; at least, you must know something.”

  “I really don’t. I could speculate, but I really don’t know.”

  “Humour me,” Sousuke countered. “Tell me your speculations.”

  Makoto sighed, twiddling his thumbs. “It might have to do with my, um, _problems_ , or my sexuality. Those were the only two big things that came up before things started to get weird.”

  “Well, what’s your sexuality?” Makoto appreciated that Sosuke moved past the topics of his ‘ _problems_ ’. Makoto guessed that Sousuke knew what it was like to have people pick apart your mental illnesses and how raw it could make you feel. “You’re gay right? Or what, bi? Pan? I mean, I didn’t think Haru cared about if people were not just in the small boxes of ‘straight’ or ‘gay’, but who knows, maybe he’s a bigger dick then I give him credit for.”

  Makoto took a few deep breaths. Being emotionally shot down for _what_ he was had never been something he was unfamiliar with. He had been called disgusting for it. He had been abandoned for it – at least it felt like it. He trusted Sosuke would not shut him down, yet years of ridicule and self-loathing over it had caused him to be defensive and stand-offish in regards to it. He wanted to brave. He felt oddly proud of how far he had gone that day, and he did not want to stop. He wanted to be brave.

  He needed to be brave.

  He was going to be brave.

  “Well, I’m gay, I mean, I say I’m gay because it makes things easier to explain,” Makoto took a deep breath. “But I’m actually ace – asexual. I’m homoromantic and asexual.” The world felt like it had wrapped its fists around his throat and was strangling him. He was petrified to look at Sousuke. He knew he had to though.

  Makoto rose his head; his eyes meeting Sousuke’s.

  Sousuke was slowly nodding his head. “I’m gonna seem like a huge asshole, so forgive me, but what exactly is ‘asexual’?”

  “Oh no, that’s o-okay,” Makoto said. “It just means that I don’t really experience sexual attraction. So sex is just off the table for me. Not to say that all asexuals don’t have sex! I-it just works that way for me. Since I don’t feel the attraction towards it, I personally don’t feel comfortable participating in it. Some don’t mind though . . .”

  “But you still like dating and all that stuff? Is that what the ‘homoromatic’ thing means?”

  “Yeah, yeah that’s right,” Makoto shot up. “It means I’m romantically attracted to guys; so I like to kiss and date, I just don’t have the urge or attraction for sex.”

  “Oh, cool cool, I see,” Sousuke replied, and Makoto felt elated. “And you think Haru has a problem with that? What a stupid thing to get pissed over.”

  “I really don’t know. He never really said. I feel as though he might have just been emulating my own emotions about it at the time . . .” Makoto confessed.

  “You didn’t always like it?”

  “I mean, who is comfortable with their sexuality when they first discover it?”

  “Yeah, fair point,” Sousuke said. “I still don’t think that gives Mr. Nanase any room to be a dick about it.”

  “No, I don’t think he was like that. I think he was just confused. I threw lots of things at once and he probably just didn’t know how to handle it.”

  “Oh no. I feel like I know where this is going.”

  Makoto let out a strained laugh. “Yeah, I wrongly confessed to him after telling him I was ace. It wasn’t my best course of action. I didn’t even mean to tell him either of them. I was just so overwhelmed with emotions and I _thought_ confiding in my best friend was a good idea. Clearly I was wrong.”

  “Ah gezz, that’s rough, man,” Sousuke took another sip of his coffee, yet his eyes did not leave Makoto.

  “I shouldn’t have told him I liked him though. That was wrong of me and I know it was. He was still with Rin and everything, so I know I was in the wrong, but I thought we could have moved past it. You know?”

  “Yeah, for sure. Rin and I moved on from it. He thought I was just sexually into him though, so I suppose that’s why it was so easy for him to move on from it. But you and Haru had been friends longer then we had too, I would have thought Haru would have tried to move past it.”

  “Maybe he did? I’m honestly not sure what was going on through his head. I’m not mad at him for it, I just hated how he threw my asexuality back at me as his reasoning for denying me. I was already so emotional over finding out about it; I didn’t need him making me feel worse about it.”

  “Yeah, fair enough. That would make anyone feel like crap. I’m confused though, like, even before Haru made that comment you were upset about being ace? Why?”

  “There were so many factors I hated about being that way. When I was younger I just thought it was how I was, you know? But once I found what it was, once I knew it was a real thing, I felt an odd mixture of happiness and sadness.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?” Sousuke softly asked.

  “I – I just felt like I drew the short straw. I didn’t want to accept the fact I was so different. And it was a lot to take in. I had come to terms with that fact that I liked boys when I was about thirteen, which was a struggle all of its own. But once I found out I was ace, it just made me feel like a failure. Like, ‘Great! I have to like guys, _and_ to top it off, I cannot even like them right!’ I knew it was just who I was. But I just felt _so_ frustrated and angry. Why couldn’t I be like everyone else and have sexual attractions? I was glad I found a word for what I was feeling, but I didn’t want to feel that way. It felt like the whole world was moving in a way I could not keep up with. Sex was seen as this magical and amazing thing that was how ‘real love’ was expressed, and here I was missing out. I wanted to want to have sex, because it seemed beautiful, but I physically could not bring myself to feel that way about people. I tried so hard, but nothing worked. I felt so broken and useless. I was angry at the world and at myself. It was yet another thing to segregate myself from other people. I felt so alone. It was just a miserable time. I tried to find help elsewhere, but so many people called me disgusting because of it. A few people I sat with at university just stopped talking to me altogether because of it. I just didn’t understand it. I didn’t want to be that way. I think as far as I have come, I still don’t really want to be that way . . .’’ Makoto was panting and his eyes were dilated. He felt years of repressed hatred had just sizzled out of his body all over Sousuke. His victim.

  Sousuke stretched his hand out and lightly touched Makoto’s. He slowly and rhythmically ran his thumb of Makoto’s knuckles. It was calming. It was comforting. “I’m sorry all that happened to you, Makoto. People making someone feel shitty over their sexuality are just the worst. I haven’t gone through that exactly, but I know what its like.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, for sure. Being a bisexual man comes with its own form of struggles and negative prejudices. I think I have the benefit of liking my sexuality a bit more then you like yours though, but you’ll get there. I’m sorry that Haru said what he did though.”

  “He didn’t do anything awful . . .” Makoto sobbed. “He just, h-he had no tact. I can’t help but feel that’s why all the problems started. But I have no proof.”

  Sousuke smiled sadly. “You don’t seem to hate Haru as much as you should, Makoto.”

  “I could never hate Haru,” He whispered.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, man. I couldn’t ever see you hating anyone, but maybe Haru deserves a little bit of hate?”

  “I don’t think so . . . Haru is just Haru. He’s always been _just Haru,_ no matter where I look in life I always see Haru. To hate him would be to lose him. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to ever lose him. He hasn’t done anything wrong; he just acted a bit stupid.”

  Sousuke let out a grumble of a chuckle. “Maybe that stupidity deserves some repercussions though. You should at least tell him how you’re feeling. I’m not defending him, but he is pretty thick, he might need a big sign telling him he fucked up.”

  “I haven’t had the chance. I get so nervous being around him. I just want him back in my life, you know? I just . . . I want my Haru back. I don’t care how, I just want him back.”

  Sousuke looked at him dubiously. “If you say so. He doesn’t deserve it though.”

  “It seems like you’re the one who hates Haru here, Sousuke,” Makoto retorted.

  “Nah, I don’t hate the guy. We get along well enough, and I enjoy talking to him when I catch up with him and Rin, he just frustrates me sometimes. He acts like he doesn’t know what his actions do, but I know he knows full well. He has had everything handed to him and-”

  “That’s not true! Haru works so hard!”

  Sousuke sat back, laughing. “Yeah, I know that Makoto. I ain’t denying the guy works hard. I know he does. But he’s never been told _no_. He’s never properly failed or not gotten what he wanted. When you don’t know what it’s like to fail, to properly fail and have no way of getting where you want, it starts to get to your head. He knows things will work out so he doesn’t worry about it. If you want him to change towards you then you will need to smack some sense into him. Otherwise he’ll continue to have it in his head it will just fix itself,” Sousuke explained, firmly.

  “I mean . . . I guess that makes sense, but I couldn’t do that. I need to sort myself out before I try and fix everything,” Makoto said. “Thank you though, I appreciate it.”

  “Nah, that’s alright. I hope stuff does work out with you two though. A part of me thought you and Haru would end up together. And that was not just my wish fulfilment talking. I saw _something_.”

  “Really? I think a part of me always knew Haru and Rin would be together. They were both so passionate . . . they were always imminent.”

  “Huh. Yeah, I suppose it was always just Haru and Rin, wasn’t it? Us two never really stood a chance, did we?”

  Sousuke and Makoto reflected the same soulful smile of anguish as they finished their time together in the café. The outside world continued to move and push forward as those two men sat in a small space of their minds. They were both drowning in the need of the past. All the chances they missed. All the mistakes. All of their dreams. The weather outside was calm and warm, yet a storm brewed amongst their minds. Yet a small bridge had formed between them. There was hope. There was a chance of movement from the statics of their thoughts and dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I am sorry if it felt a little choppy (?) but it is in that awkward part of the story where Makoto is being thrown into new situations and change is happening. Makoto and Sosuke interacted together a bit more as teenagers in this piece of work then they did in the anime, but not too much.  
> ALSO! I DO NOT HATE HARU! I promise, I do not hate Haru. Maybe he will be redeemed, maybe he won't. ;)
> 
> I am planning on having more of Makoto dealing with his sexuality, so please, stay tuned for all that is to come! :)
> 
> Anyway! Thank you so much for reading! I hope to have the next chapter out next week. :) I hope you all have a lovely  
> day!  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Does anyone else like man bun Sosuke? I wasn't going to do it, but I talked myself into it and I am glad, ahaha, lol. :)


	6. Do You Think We Can Go Back?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times used to be full of a love Makoto found comfort in, yet life will never seem to slow down for him.  
> Makoto is not the only one struggling though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Thank you so much for reading this chapter! :)
> 
> This chapter is more on the shorter end, but I hope to pick up the chapter lengths for the next chapter!  
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter this week :)  
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Small Allusion to suicidal thoughts  
> \- Light Mention On Depression  
> \- Negative Thoughts/ Social Opinions On Asexuality  
> \- Feelings Of Abandonment  
> \- Allusions To Internalized Homophobia  
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, bur merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter, and I hope you all have a wonderful day! :)

_“Haru! Haru!” Makoto called out, his tiny feet chasing after the black haired boy. “You can’t go into the water, you’re not allowed!”_

_Haru hesitated slightly before he continued to run down to the ocean, his feet sinking into the hungry sand as he ran. Sharp speckles of sand were flung up with each movement of his feet. The late afternoon light was spilled across the sky, the colours at the base dribbled and leaked into the ocean. The soft whispering of the willowing wind blew over the two young boys as their adventures paved a way through their memories. Their figures were blurred to any onlookers, yet to each other they were as clear as ever. Their futures and their pasts were being woven together, in a knot they were unaware was being tied._

_Makoto had caught up to Haru, his hands wrapped around his arm, preventing him from moving forward. Little did he know that hand wound prevent Haru from moving forward in many ways in the very distant years that were to come._

_“Haru . . . Haru,” Makoto panted. “Our mommies said we can’t go into the water if we come down here without them. We’re not allowed in that water.”_

_“I know that . . .” Haru professed._

_“I’m sorry,” Makoto mumbled. “But we can still play with water! There is a shower and tap up there, we can use that!”_

_Haru nodded his head._

_“We, um, oh! We can build some sand castles! Would you like that, Haru? I even have some buckets with me.”_

_Haru shook his head. His eyes remained on the ground. “I don’t know how to make sand castles . . .” He confessed._

_Makoto’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Haru, that’s okay, I can teach you. It’ll be fun, okay?”_

_Haru’s face brightened up and he gave Makoto one of his secret smiles that he hid from most of the world. Holding his hand, Makoto started running across the sand with Haru. Their faces were red raw and flushed._

_As they made their way up the sand hill they felt at peace. Life was simple. They were able to revile in the joyous simplicity and tranquillity of the time. They had no school the next day; they could stay up and fill their stomachs with biscuits and fruits. They were free to enjoy life in the ways you could only do when young and full of whimsical wisdom._

_Makoto handed Haru one his red buckets, and the two of them started to fill them up with water from the tap. Their toes squishing on the small clumps of wet and forgotten   sand surrounded the tap. The plastic of the handle rubbed against their soft hands as they wobbled their way back down to the warm sad. Dollops of water slushed out of the side of the buckets._

_As they sat on the sand they mixed it together with the sand and started making their sand castles. Makoto walked Haru through the steps, releasing small, muffled but adoring giggled as Haru’s castles fell or crumbled. Each time he would help Haru build a bigger and stronger one then the last. They collected small twigs and leaves and stuck them around the sides of the two castles. They built small moats and stood back in a shining state of pride._

_“Hey Haru,” Said Makoto. “Do you know the best part of building sand castles?”_

_Haru turned his head to Makoto’s – he shook his head._

_“Destroying them~” He grinned._

_Makoto grabbed Haru’s hand, the sand and warmth of both of them mingled together. They ran back, their feet almost flicking into each other._

_“Makoto . . .” Haru began._

_“Are you ready, Haru?” He asked._

_Haru looked at the sand castles in the distance before looking back at Makoto and nodding his head._

_Makoto gripped Haru’s hand tighter before smiling and running again. Though he was not sure, Makoto was sure he saw Haru smiling in that moment too._

_As they ran along, the castles became larger and larger and larger and larger. Makoto’s foot came in contact with one of them, shortly followed by Haru’s foot. They kicked and knocked and stomped and stamped. The same collapsed and fell into lumpy piles. The air was filled with the trickles of giggles and smiles._

_Little bits of sands made its way over the two boys._

_They were both lying down on the sand. The sky was smudged with the lights of the night._

_“That was fun, Haru,” Makoto panted, his eyes closed._

_Haru let out a soft laugh. “Yes, it was . . . though I think I have sand in my undies.”_

_“Me too. It was worth it though right?”_

_“I guess so,” Haru said, his voice cheekily dubious. “It’s pretty uncomfortable though.”_

_Makoto rolled over to his side, his eyes slowly opening up. Haru was still looking at the sky. “You can have a shower. You will feel good as new.”_

_“Makoto,” Haru said, as his face turned over to the side. A small chuckle left his lips. “I still have sand on my butt.”_

_“Well, so do I. So we’re even. I’ll even let you go to the bathroom first.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_After a moment of waiting Makoto looked back at Haru. “Do you want to go back? It’s getting a little late. I think my mum is making hamburgers tonight for dinner. You don’t want to miss them do you?”_

_“I don’t wanna go just yet . . .”_

_“Huh? Why, Haru?”_

_“It’s . . . it’s nice out here.”_

_“Okay Haru,” He smiled. Makoto let his eyes close. The presence of Haru soothed him, and he felt at peace. Sometimes, he thinks in that moment, that was the most at peace he ever felt in his life. That one small moment. That one small moment was one he would come to live in for years. It was – and always will be – his safe space._

_The only sound he could hear was the shallow and crushing sounds of the distant waves and the deep breathes of Haru. Haru’s head had slowly yet distinctly lolled to the side; where it rest hesitantly on Makoto’s shoulder. Their breathing had become synced and Makoto felt a kind of happiness he would not ever know how to reciprocate and would crave for many years to come._

_He moved his head ever so slightly towards Haru’s. The fresh smell of his friend, of his dear, dear friend trickled into, and engulfed his nose. His thick hair tickled Makoto’s upper lip and covered his hidden smile._

_Time had become a fantasy. They were never more alive in that moment. They were never more non-existent in that moment. They were both all and nothing of what they thought they were. They had little of a past, yet enough of one to know they would one day miss it. They had so much of a future that they did not know what to do with it – it was something so large and infinite that they did not fear it, but welcomed it._

_That too would be an emotion long missed in the years to come. By the both of them._

_The two of them drifted off into a slumberous nap on the sand, as the night continued to roll over them._

_Haru had softly nudged Makoto’s arm to stir him awake._

_“I want to go home.”_

_“What?” Makoto said; his voice groggy and disorientated._

_“I want to go back to your place – It’s getting late,” Haru explained._

_“Oh, right of course. Yes, we can go back, Haru,” He smiled, finally gaining awareness of his surroundings again._

_As they walked along the concrete footpath a few bike riders rode past. They all gave the two boys a few little waves and a smile._

_They dusted the sand – as much as they could – off themselves as they walked, and it lightly kissed their feet and the ground._

_Although Makoto had to slow his pace, their feet walked in the same beat. Makoto had thought the world had granted him a place in the world. He thought unlike everyone else in the world he knew what he was meant to do. He knew his destiny. He knew who he was in all aspects of the word: He was Haru’s friend._

_He knew he would always be Haru’s friend._

_Always._

_Makoto knew he was young and inexperienced, yet when he was beside Haru he felt like he knew the whispered secrets of the world. He knew in the great scheme of things he knew nothing, but it never mattered. Haru made him feel like he knew everything._

_Haru was and always would be his everything. Even to his own detriment._

_As they walked into Makoto’s house they were washed and cleaned with the smell of home cooking and the feeling of near showers._

_“Hello, boys,” Makoto’s mother called out from the kitchen. Her tone made them both stop dead in their tracks. Frozen with guilty faces of anticipation. “I believe we arranged for you both to come back one hour ago – Oh!” She said, seeing the sorry state they were in. “It looks like you two went on a bit of an adventure. I’ll let you off tonight, now go and have a bath. I’ll heat your dinners up for you two,” She informed with a wink as they both ran up the stairs, Makoto’s giggles evaporated into the hall way._

_Makoto went to the linen closet to grab Haru a towel before going to his bedroom; where he found Haru sitting emotionless on his floor._

_Haru had never expressed his emotions as freely as other people – but Makoto knew that did not mean he was not expressing them. If there was one thing Makoto could proudly say he did well, it was reading Haru. Even when everyone else would look at Haru and see nothing, Makoto would be able to see the plethora of emotions that thrived beneath the thin layer of skin. Makoto was able to see Haru’s heart._

_“Here’s your towel, Haru,” Makoto said, sitting down next to him. “You still want to have the first bath?”_

_Haru gave a curt nod before he stood up and made his way to the door. As he was half way out of the door he turned back and faced Makoto._

_“Thank you, Makoto,” He whispered. “. . . For the towel.”_

_Makoto simply smiled in return._

_Once both Makoto and Haru had cleaned themselves they sat in dining room and ate their dinner and made their way back into Makoto’s bedroom, Haru’s futon already laid out._

_All the lights had been turned off and the rest of the house, the rest of the town, the rest of the country, the rest of the world, was fast asleep. The only two who were awake were Makoto and Haru. The only two tasting the night were Haru and Makoto._

_At least, that was what they believed._

_That was they wanted to think._

_They were muffling and whispering to each other, yet they still felt loud. They still felt like they may wake up the world with one wrong word._

_“What do you think you will be when you are older?” Makoto asked, his voice raw from attempting to stay soft._

_“I don’t know, Makoto.”_

_“Do you think you’ll be a swimmer? I think you’ll be a swimmer,” He smiled._

_“I don’t know, Makoto.”_

_Makoto rested his arms across his chest and looked at the roof. “You’ll probably be super popular and tall. Everyone will want to be your friend, because you’ll just be so cool,” He giggled to himself. Back then, he was never truly scared of anyone taking Haru away from him. He thrived on the idea of Haru having lots of friends._

_They talked and babbled about their dreams. They spoke of the mistakes they had made, and of the mistakes they knew they were yet to make. They wondered about the world that held no fear. Their young minds licked up the thoughts of possibilities. They talked of the impossible in a way that convinced them it was highly possible. Their small and boyish voices mixed and blended into the history and the making of the world. Theirs mumbling of their friendship kept their little world’s heart pumping._

_The room had grown quite; the soft humming of the fan was the only thing that could be heard. Makoto was about to drop off to sleep – as he had assumed Haru had already done – but he was dragged back to a state of concise with the pleading of a small and unsure voice._

_“Makoto?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Does . . . does this world ever scare you sometimes?”_

_Makoto sat up. He could still not see Haru, but he wanted to give him as much as his attention as he could. “What do you mean, Haru?”_

_“I don’t know. I just get scared thinking about the world sometimes. It’s awfully big, and you never know what will happen.”_

_“I don’t really know, Haru. I get scared really easily – but I never got scared of the world; just some of the small stuff in it.”_

_“But what about the big stuff?”_

_Makoto let out an awkward and stained laugh. “If I started worrying over the big stuff, I don’t think I would be able to do a lot.”_

_Oh, if only he knew._

_“I think I should be scared.”_

_“You’re not?”_

_Haru did not speak for a while. Makoto was about to repeat his question, thinking Haru had not heard him, but Haru had finally spoken. “Not in the way I think I should be . . .”_

_Makoto took his blankets off him and quietly hobbled out of his bed and walked over to where Haru was sleeping. He softly sat down next to him. He let Haru get used to his presence before talking._

_“That’s not a bad thing, Haru,” Makoto offered. “And besides, who wants to feel scared over stuff? I wish I was brave like you. I’m such a baby.”_

_“I’m scared to be scared of what I’m afraid of though. I don’t think that’s a good thing.”_

_Makoto put his hand on Haru’s head. “What are you scared of, Haru?”_

_Haru turned his head to the side, his pillow moulded to the shape of his head. Makoto could hear Haru’s heavy breathing, yet he continued to wait. He waited for as long as he had to, not taking his hand off of Haru’s head._

_Haru mumbled into his pillow. Anyone would have missed what he said. Makoto heard him though. Makoto always heard Haru. “I’m scared of people leaving . . . my mum and dad are almost never at home . . . R-rin, he left, he left me. Lots of people leave me, Makoto. I don’t act like other kids, I don’t normally mind. But sometimes I think I lose lots of people because of who I am. Li-li-like I don’t deserve love because of who I am,” Haru’s body had begun to shake with his small sobs. Little hiccups blended with the wetness of his tears. “Am I a bad person, Makoto? Is that why this always happens?”_

_Makoto’s head had dropped. His eyes shielded against his shoulder. His tears bled into the fabric of his shirt. He wanted to respond to Haru as soon as the question had been asked, but his throat had been too clogged with emotions to anything other than cry._

_Makoto bent his head down to Haru’s, his lips almost brushing against Haru’s neck. “No, no, Haru, no. You’re not a bad person. Not at all. You’re such a wonderful person,” Makoto’s moist breath smeared itself against Haru. “Good people don’t always get good love. S-sometimes the world doesn’t know how to love you. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t love you. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person – you have never been a bad person.”_

_“I feel like one,” Haru’s body racked. With each mini earthquake of Haru’s heart, Makoto’s broke. “I feel like such a horrible person. I don’t know how to feel better. I don’t know how to get people to s-stay, Makoto.”_

_In a swift and possibly aggressive motion Makoto scooped Haru up into a hug, squeezing him as hard as he could. He wanted to push all the love in the world into Haru’s body. He wanted Haru to even feel a speckle of the love Makoto was convinced Haru deserved. Even if everyone else was, for some deluded reason, adamant that Haru didn’t deserve love, Makoto knew he was right – because Haru absolutely deserved love._

_“I’ll never leave you,” Makoto urged, softly._

_“Huh?”_

_“I’ll never leave you, Haru. I promise. You’re my best friend. I love you,” He mumbled. “I’ll never, ever, leave you.”_

_“R-really?” Haru croaked._

_“Really, really,” He confirmed._

_Haru tucked his head into Makoto’s chest. His breathing had still been rigid but was soothing down._

_“Thank you, Makoto.”_

_Makoto could feel the ghost of Haru’s smile against him._

_He held Haru until he had calmed down, and after, he pulled back Haru’s blankets and slide into his futon with him. He wrapped his back arm around Haru once again, planning on holding him all night. As long as Haru needed him to._

_“Are you sure you will always be my friend?” Haru whispered._

_“Yes, of course I will. Will you always be my friend?”_

_“I’ll always be your friend, Makoto.”_

***

  Makoto had profusely struggled to get out of bed. His whole body had felt empty and heavy at the same time. He wanted nothing more than to remain in his room, his mother needed a few groceries though, and her face had been covered in the potent smell of disappointment more than normally, so Makoto had caved against his best wishes. His skin itched with the suffocating feeling of the overpopulated shops and streets.

  He thought he would have been fixed since meeting Souske. He had rekindled with someone who was kind and actively trying to hang out with him. He thought that would have made him happy, or at least _happier,_ yet he had not moved. His emotions had been locked in a stalemate.

  As he was walking along the street he saw a puff of unmistakable black hair.

  He saw Haru.

  Before he could talk himself out of it he ran across the road to catch up with Haru.

  “Haru!” He called out, his legs taking him towards the man.

  Haru turned around, startled, and then covered in emotions Makoto was unsure of. He was taken aback.

  He tried to not worry about not knowing an emotion of Haru’s. There were most likely plenty of emotions that Makoto would not know.

  He had to be okay with that.

  “I’m glad I c-caught up to you, Haru,” Makoto panted. He tried with all his might to keep a smile on his face.

  “Hello Makoto, look, it’s good to see you but-”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to talk for a bit,” Makoto interrupted. His adrenaline was running high. “Please. If-if you don’t mind,” Makoto would finally be able to facilitate what Sousuke was constantly telling him to do. He would be able to do it.

  He would finally be able to fix everything.

  Everything would be able to go back to normal.

  Haru sighed. “I can’t. Rin’s waiting for me,” He explained. He looked around, avoiding eye contact with Makoto. He played with the case of his phone. _Pulling_ and _tugging_ , _pulling_ and _tugging_ at it.

  “It-it won’t take long . . . I promise. Haru listen, I-”

  “No,” Haru lifted his head, his eyes a tragically beautiful mix of desperation and glossed sadness. Makoto’s heart ached when he saw them. For the right and the wrong reasons. “I can’t, Makoto. I just can’t,” Haru shook his head, yet it felt like he was shaking it more for his own sake then for Makoto’s.

  “O-okay, Haru . . . okay.”

  “I’ll see you around, Makoto . . . bye.”

  Haru gave a small wave and turned around to continue walking before Makoto could do or say anything.

  He was too occupied with the loud _thumping_ of his heart he did not notice how Haru’s walk was quicker than normal.

  A few people bustled and pushed past Makoto, yet it did not stop his tears glistening down his cheeks.

  He felt so defeated in a way he did not how to recover from.

  He never knew how much strength Haru held over his heart.

  He never knew how truly sensitive he was to Haru’s touch.

  Though, if _he_ were Haru, he would not want to talk to himself either.

  Although he had come to accept the realties and the principles of his life, he had not realised how brittle his soul was – how much of a nightmare his mind was. He had travelled so far on the propositions of ‘it will get better.’, ‘I’m not that bad.’ . . . ‘I’m not that damaged.’, he had lost his way. He had lived in the comfortable maze of disillusionments; so he had not been prepared for the wave of emotions that flooded his throat, heart and eyes. He had never prepared for it.

  Most days Makoto would live in a pit of dark and thick tar. But he had been _sure_ it was mainly just in him. He was sure no one else had a huge impact on it. Sure, the actions and words of others inflamed his own pain in ways he could not control. Sure, he was hurt by other people. Sure, he felt like other people gave him no real option of just letting himself hurt without getting cross at him. Sure. But it never felt like anyone was fully and indisputably going up to the volcano of his emotions and throwing in chemical gases. Not really.

  It never used to.

  Makoto was not so sure anymore though. Did he even have the right to detest it or feel hurt over it? Did he have rights to his emotions and his heart at that point? It felt like the world owned his heart more than he ever did. Was that a bad thing though? Was Makoto worthy enough to fully carry something as delicate as a human heart? Even if it hurt, was his heart truly better off in the hands of the world then in his own? Had he dropped his heart too many times to be deemed reliable anymore?

  Did he relinquish his heart freely to the world, or did it steal his heart from him? Makoto could not remember. But however it happened; he could not help but think he deserved it. He must be worthy of his loneliness. He must have done something to have it like a dark curse clouding the forks in the road of his life.

  Who _would_ want to talk to Makoto?

  Who _would_ want to talk to a shattered asexual?

  Who _would_ want to be friends with a man who had to talk to himself for fifteen minutes before being able to convince himself to get out of bed?

  Who _would_ want to talk to someone who could not even give himself a shower some days?

 _Why am I so disgusting?_ Makoto thought.

 _What is so wrong with me?_ Makoto thought.

 _Why will I inevitably end up alone?_ Makoto thought.

 _Why_ , Makoto thought, _am I not even worth my best friend anymore? I just want him back. I just want my friend back. I want my love to mean something._

_I just want my life back._

 

  Through his blurred vision he walked over to a seat and sat down, tucking his face into his hands.

_I’ve forgotten how to love myself . . . I needed you to help show me there was something worth loving._

  “Why am I so selfish?” Makoto mumbled into his hands.

  His question was lost to the world.

  The world that was slowly losing room for Makoto Tachibana.

 

  Back in his room, shrouded in dulled darkness, his fish swan, _around_ and _around_ and _around_ and _around_ and _around_ its bowl.

_Around._

_Around._

_Around._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! :) <3  
> I know a few people really liked Sousuke being in the story (I do too <3) so I am sorry he was not really in this one. He will be making a small appearance in the next one, and then I promise after that he will be more regularly in it. He will absolutely return, I promise! :) <3 
> 
> I told you I would redeem Haru ;) 
> 
> Again, thank you so so much for reading this chapter, and I hope you all have a wonderful day! :)


	7. The Two-Sided Coins of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is never fully as it seems at first sight - the lines between good and bad, wrong and right get blurred and the realization that everyone is just looking for warm guidance becomes clear; though not to everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Thank you so much for reading this chapter! :) I am so sorry it took an extra week to come out, but I once again had a lot of work that needed to take the priority.  
> This chapter might be on a bit more of the slower side, but I hope you still enjoy it. :D
> 
> PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU LOOK AT THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter this week :)
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Medium Allusion to suicidal thoughts  
> \- Heavy Mentions On Depression  
> \- SELF HARM MENTION (Past)  
> \- Feelings Of Abandonment  
> \- Allusions To Internalized Homophobia  
> \- Negative family reactions to mental illness  
> \- Negative body image - Negative thoughts to having larger weight 
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, bur merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter, and I hope you all have a wonderful day! :) <3

  He smelt of chlorine and the evening breeze.

  His steps were even and small as he walked along the side of the road to his house. The regular relaxed image of his face looked over the houses. The brisk air cooled the drops of water that had not dried around his neck. Everything about him and how he was holding himself would suggest he was content with the variables of his life.

  He wondered if he was.

 _Possibly_ he was.

  He saw no reasons as to why he should not be content – elated even.

  He had a house, he was living his dream, he had the love of his life teaching him and living with him, he had money. By all accounts of the word he should be content. He should be happy.

  There was a hole though. A gaping and all-consuming hole.

  His life felt as if it was a Barmecidal play.

  He went through the stages and phases in the order that was strictly expected of him: He had lost himself in his youth, he had pushed forward, he found love, he started working, he spent time with his friends and he paid his bills. He would do that until his body was recaptured by the earth. Even if sections of his life were not conventional, he had followed the formula. He had followed the instructions of life; so he was grossly unaware of why the thick lingering of _not enough_ plagued his heart. He had many times in his life tried to uncover what the problem was, as he did not always feel that way, yet he came out short. So he simply stopped trying figure out what was wrong with himself. He soaked up the times he felt the satanic presences of his life gone, and withdrew and tried to forget when it came back.

  Was he content? Yes, he liked to say he was. How much truth he found in those words was questionable though, even for him.

 

  As he opened the door to his house he was greeted with the smell of curry and candles.

  “Haru, is that you?” The voice from the kitchen called out.

  “Yes,” He called back, while taking off his shoes. He made a deep sigh before walking down the hallway into the kitchen.

  “You surprised me this morning,” Rin said. “You almost never go to the pools on a Sunday. Sundays are your lazy days, babe.”

  Haru nodded his head. “I know. I’m sorry. I just needed to go for a little swim – to clear my head.”

  “ _Little_?” Rin laughed. “You were gone for around seven hours.”

  “I’m sorry . . .”

  “Nah, you’ve got nothing to apologise for,” He kissed the temple of Haru’s head before turning back to the stove. “Did it help clear your head a bit though?”

  Haru’s voice hitched in his throat. “I don’t know. Yeah, I guess.”

  Rin turned back around to look at Haru, a frown grooved into his face. “That doesn’t sound too good, or promising. What’s up with you lately? You seem really out of it.”

  “Rin . . .” Haru warned, his voice growing stiff and defensive. “Don’t.”

  Rin turned the temperature down on the stove and turned around to Haru, making sure to give him his full attention. He crossed his hands over his chest and leaned back. “Okay. What gives? What’s up?”

  “Rin, nothing. Nothing is up,” Haru’s voice came out more bitter than he intended.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Haru. You think I don’t know you better than that?” He pressed. “I mean, for god’s sake, someone who’s never met you before would be able to tell something was up. You’re not exactly hiding it. I’ll ask again: What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, Rin,” He looked away, feeling suffocated.

  Rin reached forward and affectionately rubbed his knuckles over Haru’s cheek. “Hey, Haru. Can you look at me? Please? I’m not angry, I’m just worried. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong. Hmm? What do you say? Can you talk to me, please?”

  He hesitated before looking back at Rin. “I really don’t know what is wrong, Rin. I don’t.”

  Rin hummed.

  “I really don’t . . .”

  Rin hummed.

  “Rin . . .” His voice cracked.

  Rin hummed.

  “I feel so lost,” He cried.

  “Yeah?”

  Haru nodded his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me . . .”

  “Not a damn thing,” Rin retorted. “Not a _damn_ thing, Haru. You hear me?”

  “I’m not perfect, Rin.”

  Rin laughed. “Who is? You can screw up in any way you want to, and I would still tell you that nothing is wrong with you.”

  Haru moved forward and rested his head against Rin’s shoulder. “That doesn’t make any sense,” He whispered.

  “Doesn’t have to,” Rin brought his hand up to head and stroked his hair. “You’ll figure it out eventually. You always do. You just have a nasty habit of not letting yourself know what’s wrong. You live in the beautiful land of denial,” Rin chuckled.  

  Haru mumbled in agreement.

  “Why don’t you talk to Makoto? He might be able to help you out a bit. He’s always been pretty good at bringing you out of your thick head.”

  “ _What_?”

  “Hey, hey – what was that all about?” Rin straightened himself up in shock.

  “Nothing. Nothing, I’m sorry.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” He asked. “Makoto?”

  “No, no of course not. I don’t even talk to Makoto anymore. Why would it be about him?” Haru could feel himself getting nervous. His body felt as if it was under attack from everything in the world.

  “What? I didn’t know that! I thought you still spoke to him!”

  “Why would I?”

  “Gee!” Rin spat. “I don’t know. Maybe because he’s your friend?”

  Haru stepped back and wrapped his arms around himself. Avoiding eye contact. “ _You_ don’t talk to him. _Nagisa_ doesn’t talk to him. _Rei_ doesn’t talk to him. I’m _not_ the bad guy here. I’m not.”

  Rin sighed and scratched the back of his head. He slowly made his way out to Haru and softly grabbed his arms. Knocking down his defences. “I’m sorry,” He said. “I didn’t mean it that way. You’re not the bad guy. I guess I was just shocked. It’s just sad I guess; I didn’t know Makoto had none of us left. I honestly thought you two were still talking, even if only a little bit.”

  “You guys aren’t,” Haru said.

  “No, I know. I know. You know why though. It wasn’t something we decided lightly, you know that. And he’s welcome back whenever he wants. We haven’t fully cut him out or anything. I just – I honestly thought you were still talking to him.”

  “No, I stopped when you all did. I don’t know why you had to bring him back in. Now it has just messed everything back up.”

  Rin rubbed his hands in small circles on Haru’s back. “There were so many reasons we stopped including him though, Haru, you can’t deny you were one of them.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I am not the bad guy here.”

  “No. I’m not saying that. I’m saying something happened between you two. God knows what because you still won’t tell me. But it was a factor we considered. It’s not like it was a big shift or anything, he wasn’t hanging around us much at that point anyway. He was just, I don’t know, difficult? – I just want to know why you stopped talking to him, do you hate him?” Rin said.

  “No. I don’t. I – I lo- I care about him. A lot. I just couldn’t anymore. I just couldn’t be around him anymore. I know he stopped coming to things anyway, but why did Nagisa invite him that time? It was out of nowhere,” Haru questioned.

  “He didn’t mean to, he accidently sent Makoto the text. He just didn’t do anything about it because he assumed, like most all other times before, Makoto would just not show up. It really was a surprise when he showed up. I didn’t hate it though. I was very happy to see him again after all that time. He sure looked different though. None of us hated that he was there – we were shocked though, that’s for sure,” Rin said.

  “Hmmm.”

  “Look, Haru, if you want, or need to talk to him, you can. I would actually encourage it, since I thought you were still talking to him sometimes.”

  “No. No I don’t want to do that. I-I’m not the bad guy in this, I don’t need to do that,” Haru protested.

  Rin sighed. “Yeah, I know. But, it seems like this is really eating away at you, Haru. Whatever happened between you two is obviously hurting you.”

  “It’s not. I don’t need him anymore.”

  “Haru . . . He was – is – I don’t know, your best friend. Doesn’t that count for something? None of us were ever as close as you two were.”

  Haru looked up into Rin’s bright eyes. “What’re you talking about? You and I are that close. Closer even.”

  Rin bent down and softly rubbed his nose across Haru’s cheek. His breath warm and comforting against him. “Hmm, _yeah_ , but that’s different. It’s not the same thing,” He left a small kiss against the corner of Haru’s mouth.

  Haru leaned into it. 

  Time slipped away as they stood in the kitchen feeling the presence and warmth of each other. The smell of the dinner softly simmering away was painted around them. Rin had wrapped his arms around Haru, allowing him to tuck his head in the crook of his neck. They slowly swayed to the tune Rin hummed - a long lost and forgotten song. Their breaths fell into a synchronized beat of tranquillity. Rin bent his face down so that the silky black hairs of Haru’s head tickled his nose and upper lip. Moments like those calmed Haru’s heart to the point of clarity. They made him feel safe in a world that tore him apart. As much as he did not like to think about it, the only thing that used to make him feel that safe was the safety net that Makoto used to be. But they had both changed and that was not something he had anymore. Makoto always used to be so strong and so big, and then he fell. He became so small that Haru ended up losing his way. The height of Makoto’s heart and soul was always something that guided him, and losing that was something Haru had never gotten used to.

  He wondered if he ever would.

  He wondered if he ever would want to.

  “Haru?” Rin mumbled.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what, Rin?”

  Rin took a deep breath. “What happened between you and Makoto. You’ve never told me, or Nagisa or Rei. I’m not trying to force you or anything. You don’t have to tell me what happened . . . but I would really like to know. I promise it won’t change how I view you. At all. But I’d still like to know.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

  “Nah, that’s okay,” Rin reassured, kissing Haru on the head. “I figured you wouldn’t. Do you think maybe one day you will though?”

  “Maybe,” Haru responded dubiously.

  He leaned up and left a warm and heavy kiss on Rin’s lips. He squeezed his arm before walking away.

  “I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit. I’ll have dinner later, if that’s okay,” Haru said.

  Rin smiled. “Of course it’s okay. I hope you have a good rest, we have a big day of training tomorrow,” He grinned. “Love you.”

  “Love you too,” He replied as he made his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the master bedroom.

  Haru tightly gripped his arm as he walked up the stairs. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes. He could feel the stiffness of his throat. He could feel the pillages of the past coming back to slaughter all he had worked towards.

  He could fell himself slipping back.

  It was not his fault though. He had his rights and his reasons. He did not need to go back.

  The pain of the past was always intoxicating and enticing though.

  Once he walked into the dark room he stripped his clothes off until he was in nothing but his underwear. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. As he laid down on the mattress his back was greeted with the cold and soft sensation of the quilt. His bones felt like hollow nickel. Corroding through his blood. Even with all the lights turned off he could see the faint and blurred images of the room. He could hear the soft tapping of branches brushing against the window.

  Though he had not done it in many years, in that moment he felt such a strong desire to do so.

  He lifted up his left arm, slowly. Hesitantly. The outline was clear to him. He knew that arm well. More then what he wanted to. More than he ever planned to. To most people what he was searching for would be invisible. They practically were. They had faded over the years. Even Rin had great difficulty finding them anymore.

  Haru knew where each one was though.

  Even if one day they truly would be non-existent, he would always know exactly where they were. Their map had been etched into his heart. Into his regret and guilt.

  He dragged his fingers over his arm. He felt like he was partaking in an illegal act.

  He was enslaved to his fourteen year old self.

  He could not feel the incisions anymore. But he rubbed his arm as if he was looking for cursed buried treasure. He did not want to find them – but a part of him did. If he could he would be reassured. He would know he made the right decision. He would not have to question himself.

  Haru knew that if he turned on the light and closely stared at his arm long enough he would be able to see them. The small little white lines that he branded himself with.

  His arm looked as if it had been dusted with tears of a rose.

  He stopped rubbing – he changed his mind. He did not want to go back. At least, not that far.

  He took a deep breath and let the sandstorm of emotions wash over him. He was not wrong. He was not the bad guy. He did what he had to. He is a good person.

  Haru was content.

  He closed his eyes and let the night take him. The day did not deserve him anymore. It made him question too much. He would wake up and Rin would be holding him and he would be okay.

  He was content. He had done what he needed to.

  He was not a bad person. He was not.

  It felt as if hot craft glue was being poured into his mouth, hardening around the inside of his throat and _dripping_ , _dripping_ , _dripping_ , into the empty base of his stomach. Sleep would not come easily, but he still refused to open his eyes and accept the day any longer.

 

  There was a knock at the door.

  When Rin opened it he was greeted with the smirking face of Sousuke holding a bag of beers.

  “Sorry I’m late! Works been a bitch lately,” Sousuke laughed. “I brought alcohol though, so I believe I’ll be forgiven?”

  Rin took the bag from Sousuke and let him in, patting him on the shoulder. “I think this’ll be too much, man. It’s just you and me tonight it would seem.”

  “What, has Haru gone out? That’s rare.”

  Rin walked into the lounge room and sat down, allowing room for Sousuke to sit next to him. “Nah, he’s just not feeling too well. He’s been out of it for a good while now though. I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Rin said. “I’m actually getting kind of worried.”

  Sousuke placed his hand on Rin’s knee. “Do you know why he’s sad?”

  “No. He won’t talk to me about it. Because he’s Haru and he’s stubborn that way,” Rin released an empty chuckle. “ . . . I think it might have something to do with Makoto though, and he just doesn’t want to admit it,” He explained. “See, when I asked him if it had anything to do with Makoto he said no, but he had this _look_ about him that made me feel like I hit the nail on the head.”

  “I thought they weren’t really talking anymore though,” Sousuke added.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t know that until just recently. Plus, Haru has this habit of internalising stuff until something sets him off – then he will internalise it some more until it seeps out on its own. I think these are some repressed emotions from whatever happened to him and Makoto all those years ago. I don’t really know.”

  “I could try asking Makoto for you, if you’d like.”

  “What?”

  “Oh shit!” He exclaimed. “I _completely_ forgot to tell you, damn.”

  Rin sat up. His face covered in a veil of a perplexing nature. “What the hell are you going on about, Sousuke?”

  “Makoto and I, we’re like, friends now – well, we’ve been for a little bit now. Four months, I think.”

  “How the hell did that happen?” Rin questioned raising his eyebrow curtly.

  “We ran into each other, he helped me out. We got talking and we really clicked. It helped that we also sort of already knew each other, but you know.”

  “Wait,” Rin said. “What do you mean he ‘helped you out’?”

  Sousuke turned his face away from Rin’s. “I . . . I sort of had a _moment_. He saw me and helped me out.”

  Rin frowned. “You haven’t had one of those for years now. What caused it? Why didn’t you call me?”

  Sosuke shook his head. “It’s alright. I haven’t had one since then – and I guess I was just embarrassed, Rin. It’s not something I like to just go around talking about.”

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Sousuke.”

  He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “I know that. Doesn’t mean it will stop me from feeling embarrassed about it though.” 

  Rin hummed dubiously. “Well, at least you haven’t had one since then. I’m glad Makoto was there – talk about creepy fate.”

  “I know right, its fucking crazy. I’m glad though, he’s a really good guy.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Really good – so good he almost makes me pissed at you and Haru. Almost.”

  Rin leaned back, puffing his chest up. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

  Sousuke’s head dropped. “Ah, shit. Sorry, I told myself I wouldn’t mix this all up,” Sousuke scratched his neck. “I still meant what I said though; I’d be more than happy to talk to Makoto about it.”

  Rin grabbed a bottle of beer and drank a mouthful before looking back at Sousuke. “I’m not angry, you’re a pretty morally grey guy,” He smirked. “It just shocked me is all. What do you think we did that’s so bad?”

  “Let’s not do this. We can just relax and watch some television – like we _intended_ to,” Sousuke pushed.

  “I’m serious, I’d like for you to tell me. I’m honestly not upset,” Rin said as he patted Sousuke’s shoulder reassuringly.

  Sousuke sighed. “I just think you guys were a bit cruel is all – not just you and Haru, but also Rei and Nagisa.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But we did what we had to. I did what I had to.”

  Sousuke shook his head in disappointment. “That doesn’t sound like the Rin I know. The Rin _I_ know, as much of a bastard he is, would not just go out and purposefully hurt someone.”

  “It’s not like anyone of us wanted to. We made a choice. A choice we thought we had to make,” Rin explained calmly, as if he had recited everything beforehand, like he had anticipated that discussion would one day come up. “Besides, it not like you were there, you didn’t see what happened between Haru and Makoto.”

  “From what I’ve heard no one was – that’s kind of why no one knows what the actual fuck happened.”

  Rin took another sip of his beer, letting the cool and bitter feeling slide down his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the motion of it. “No, we didn’t see what happened, but we saw the aftermath of it. We were there when it happened, but we didn’t see what happened. We didn’t hear what happened. We just saw the mess they were both in.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We were at this get together thing you see,” Rin explained. “This was a little after Makoto had dropped out of University. But even before then we had been seeing less and less of him. Even when we _did_ see him, he was really distant, just not really there, you know? Makoto was more off than normal, so I told Haru he should try and stick by Makoto, just to chat with him and stuff. None of us really knew what his deal was. We figured if we left him alone he would sort everything else out himself, you know?”

  “I really don’t like the sound of where this is going, Rin,” Sousuke chimed in. His voice stoic and gruff.

  Rin smiled softly, though it seemed full of anguish and regret. “At first Haru just sort of stuck by me, but he did eventually go and talk to Makoto. I don’t know what either of them said, but when Rei, Nagisa, and I went out we saw Haru walking back to us crying, like, a full on snot fest of crying, and Makoto looked really ill and was walking away. Makoto showed up to a few other things after that, but for the most part he just really started distancing himself. Rei, Nagisa, and I all thought that he would just sort it all out by himself and come back when he was ready. Haru seemed all kinds of messed up as well, so we just thought it would be better to stop inviting him and just give us all some space, you know?” Rin’s breathing had gotten deeper and his eyes looked empty. “I thought him and Haru had started talking again, but I was wrong about that. Eventually months turned into years and we practically never saw Makoto, so we just left it as it was. Before we stopped inviting him out he was already distancing himself, so I just never really thought much of it. My boyfriend needed me, so I was there for him. I never really gave much thought to what it was doing to Makoto . . .”

  “What the fuck, Rin? That’s all kinds of messed up, you do know that right?”

  “I know. I do. I just, I’d never seen Haru so upset before. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Okay, _fine_ , I get that. But what about Rei and Nagisa? They don’t really have any excuse.”

  “I-I don’t think I should answer that, Sousuke.”

  “And why the fuck not?” He spat.

  “You’ll probably end up hating them, which I don’t think is fair. They’re good people.”

  Sousuke sighed, leaning back on the chair. He let his frustrations seep and dribble out of him. He closed his eyes. “You know I don’t really hate anyone. I’m just trying to understand what happened, Rin.”

  Rin bit the inside of his check. “Haru . . . he’s, well, he’s always sort of been the centre of our group. Rin and Nagisa were always very close, but when we were all together it was Haru we revolved around. Haru and Makoto were also friends before him and I were, but then Haru and I started dating, so most of his time was occupied with me. Really, when we all got together Haru was what we all based our decisions on. So, naturally for me, when things got rocky I was with Haru on it, because he was my boyfriend. Rei and Nagisa ended up following suite because our friendship revolved around him – whether he wanted it to or not.”

  “None of you thought where that might’ve left Makoto?”

  “I – I can’t really speak for the others,” Rin mumbled. “But no, I never really thought about what it would’ve done to Makoto. Makoto was just always so, I don’t know, big in my mind? I guess I just couldn’t stop thinking of him in that way.”

  “ . . . I used to be ‘big’ in your mind too. I never would’ve thought you’d have done something like that to me.”

  “I wouldn’t have, Sousuke. I know you more than I know Makoto. I was around him for many, many years. We did a lot of things together, but I never really got to know him. Not properly. He was just this big smiley and doting guy. That’s all he was for me.”

  “This whole thing is fucked up. You see them both upset, yet, you just side with Haru – you had sides to begin with. You don’t even know what happened and you are saying ‘Haru was right, Makoto was wrong’, it’s a shit situation, man”

  “I know. I know. But I was Haru’s boyfriend. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not tryin’ hate on you or anything – I’m just saying it’s a seriously fucked up situation,” Sousuke said. “Can I ask you something though?”

  “Yeah sure, man.”

  “I remember a conversation I had with Makoto: He said that Haru either left him because of his ‘problems’ or because he was asexual. Do you think that would be a fair statement?”

  “Is that what he said?”

  “Yeah. I mean, more or less.”

  “I mean, I know they didn’t fight over his sexuality.”

  “That’s not what Makoto said – he said Haru threw his sexuality back at him,” Sousuke explained.

  “I’m not saying something didn’t happen over that, I’m just saying that wasn’t the main, big reason for it. If it was just something like that Haru would have told me. There’s more to it. I can see how Makoto might have felt that way though, I’m not disputing the fact it probably hurt like hell.”

  “So I guess it falls more under these ‘problems’.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. How do you even know about all of this? I know you said that you guys are friends now and everything, but still.”

  Sousuke laughed, he opened his eyes and turned his head to Rin. “He’s actually a pretty open guy. He’s got a lot to say, the only problem is for a long time now he’s had no one to say it to. I suppose I’m reaping in the aftereffects of that now. Sometimes he will say one small thing, and then suddenly he is gushing about a whole wave of things. He always looks exhausted after it though; sometimes he even apologies about it,” A sheen of sadness and conflict plateaued over Sousuke’s eyes. “It hurts to see sometimes actually. He’s been so alone for a long time now, it feels like he has been alone for longer than he has not been seeing you guys. It just pisses me off that someone as kind as him is going through that. That day that we met – more like met again – so many people walked past me. Some people even walked into me,” Sousuke whispered as he softly tugged at his hands. “I was actually scared. I felt humiliated. But once it passed and I got myself out of it there was this _huge_ and _beautiful_ guy in front of me offering me help. I’d never experienced generosity like that before. It was so humbling. But then I found out this fucked up world has gone and shat all over him. He’s been dished out more then he deserves, I know that, and I don’t even know an awful lot of what has happened to him. I just know the world robbed him of his smile, and no one deserves that. Least of all him . . .”

  Rin hummed in agreement. “ . . . I’m sorry, Sousuke. I know you probably don’t think too highly of me right now.”

  “It’s not that – I guess the situation just makes me sad. I feel like I can’t do anything because I don’t know what’s goin’ on in his head, or what happened between him and Haru. I don’t know how to handle it.”

  After that the two friends said nothing. They did not need to. They knew the air was defusing and they could fall into a time of leisure. For all of their selfish antics, they often carried the weight of others, even if it was not asked of them. They walked through the world with their feet in the dirt. They trudged through pain that slugged up to their knees, often breaking their bones from the strains their hearts made to farm the smiles of others.

  As different as they were from each other, and as many of their own problems they had, they felt as though they could be weak around each other. They did not feel as though they had to fight and claw their way to victory; victory was a promised kiss between them. Their friendship was one that stopped the time bomb of suffering and need. Around each other they could kick and scream and bite and plead; yet they could also lick their wounds and find a stable and sturdy shoulder to rest their head on.

  Instead of hiding they could howl with the wind.

  Both Rin and Sousuke found a strange sense of peace around the other. Around each other they found the illusion of pain and the truth of soldiering on.

  Around each other they lived in a world of their own – a world of convictions and broken roads. A world of contradictions, and mind-numbingly and spectacularly lost thoughts. A world of patience and new mornings.

  Around each other they had friendship in its purest form.

***

 

  He wanted to say that he was trying, in a way he was, but he knew he had given way to apathy.

  The bridges and barricades of his life had been shot down and burnt by his soul. His mind had manipulated him into defeat. He was a prisoner of his war.

  He never wanted to give up. He never thought he would, if he was to be honest. No matter how deep he sunk under, no matter how black the water had become, he was able to see the dot of the sun giving him strength. Chanting the mantra of ‘just one more day – one more breathe – one more blink’, but the clouds of his sorrow had crept over the sun. He no longer had the strength to live in the illusions of warmth. His world was damp and cold; he could no longer ignore it. He had been fighting for so many years, and he was tired of it. He no longer wanted to feel the strain of holding his breath. He wanted his lungs to be flooded with the brisk water of his failures. He wanted his exterior and interior lives to blend together.

  Maybe then he could be made into something beautiful.

  Something mysterious and alluring; not just something disgustingly pitiful.

  He thought that at the point he reached, if someone had sent a chain to the bottom of the forgotten lake he was tied to, to drag him back up to the surface, he would not take it. He wondered if it was because he did not want to be saved, if he did not have the energy to be saved, or, if because he was petrified of what the world would look like. What the world would think of him. He was a part of that world, but he had not seen it or been included into the nuances of it. If he were to re-enter it he would be like a child – a child with no support to learn how to grow or change.

  He thought he may have hit his expiration date. Maybe he was truly not meant to be a part of the world around him.

  His room held a dank and musky smell to it. It smelt of sickness and melted tar. His windows had not been opened for a couple of weeks. Nor had his blinds. His room had become a dark bubble of self-loathing and cripplingly intrusive thoughts. Most of his clothes were scattered around his floor and on his bed. That should have been the first sign that he was slipping, it always was, but he chose to ignore it. Like he often did. As aware as he was with his limitations and restrictions, he was also in denial about them to a degree. He did not want to fully yield to the problems that had accumulated around his heart. His demons had other plans though. They made him submit and wither on the ground. Any signs of resistances were treated with beatings.

_You’re terrible._

_You’re not worth love._

  His heart would shrink.

_You’re broken._

  His soul would be chipped away.

_You’re deplorable._

  His future would wither.

_You hurt everyone._

  His past would dribble into his present.

_You’re not meant for this world._

  His future would evaporate from his imaginations.

_They_

_will_

_leave_

_you._

  His body would split into faith and failure.

  He had come to not care how much of a disappointment he was to himself, though he still loathed the fact he was a disappointment to those around him. He hated how his life somehow reflected the worth of someone else’s. That was the main reason he tried so hard for as long as he did. There came a point where that was not enough though. The call of drowning was stronger and more seductive then the one that called him to be the perfect man. It still hurt him, yet no one would know, because his tears would blend into the lake of his destiny and death. He was stuck in a hellish limbo that had no progression or direction.

  He wanted to be free.

  But he was not strong enough.

  Not anymore.

  Makoto ran his hand through his hair, feeling the thick grease of it. His fingers glistened. He could feel the mucky and hot breathe of his un-brushed teeth growing in his mouth and sticking to the roof of his mouth and his tongue. A thin layer of sweat was constantly on his body, despite the dropping temperature.

  He had not properly seen his family for a little while. Both because he was too scared to and because he felt they did not want him to. His mother’s face of defeat and disappointment was etched on the inside of his eyelids – every time he would close them he would see it. He could not escape how far he had fallen in his mother’s eyes. He could feel the embarrassment his brother and sister felt about him. He could hear the shame his father had in him.

  The person he is was was not enough. It never was. Not that he blamed them. Makoto fully understood. He would feel the same way if he was in their position. He shared most of their opinions of himself as it was anyway.  At least they could get away from him. He was stuck with himself. He had to constantly listen to himself and feel for himself and look at himself and think with himself. There was never a break. Never anytime he could just walk away. Even as he slept his body was under pressure from who and what he was.

  He still wished he could relinquish his expectations and responsibilities. Was it so wrong to not want to try anymore? To just have someone come in, scoop him up, and do all the heavy lifting to saving him? He knew he could not depend on anyone else to save him, but he still dreamt someone would. He no longer wanted the strenuous and demanding responsibility of loving and caring for himself. He wanted someone else to do it, as illogical as it was.

  Even if the world was kind and soft to him, he would probably still feel the same way. As broken and splintered as the world was, most of his infections and stabs came from himself. Makoto knew that, he just did not like to admit it. It made him feel like an even larger failure. There was a strange sense of disassociation and loneliness that often accompanied self-hatred, yet he could not get away. He could not stop. He wanted to, yet he could not find the energy or the heart to. He could not find the off switch, so he must deserve it. He must.

  He did not want to though – not anymore. He could not bear the face that looked back at him anymore. He could not bear the faces of his family anymore.

  He knew he was a disappointment, but he did not like to be reminded.

  The door to his room opened.

  His mother walked through. Her face looked like a wet and forgotten box of childhood memories that someone would lock up in the attic. Her face was no longer bathed in smiles and the warm atmosphere that he would always associate with her. Her eyes scanned over the warzone of his room before crudely looking at Makoto in bed. Her eyes stayed frozen, as if she was scrutinizing every flaw of him. The ones he was aware of and the ones he was not so sure of. It felt like she was stripping past all the defences he had built up. Trudging up old undesirable aspects that he had come to terms with – making him question anything and everything he had ever made peace with.

  He did not blame her.

  He understood.

  It still hurt and flooded his heart though. To think he was the cause of her to be that way was one of his greatest regrets in life. So he held no malicious thoughts over how she reacted to him.

  They both knew times were different. Makoto was prone to having blocks of time that were utterly unbearable for him and all those around him, yet they came in intervals. They would come, do their worst, and then they would leave, until the next time. It was different this time though. Both Makoto and his mother knew it was different. It was big and it was not going to fully go away.

  Makoto thought that was what finally pushed his mother over the edge. She had to finally join him in the reality of the situation. Her facade and fictions of who he was were smashed, and she broke along with them.

  He knew that his mother loved him; he strongly believed she always would, but he knew after her world of him crashed, she did not like him an awful lot. It hurt more then he thought it would. It hurt when the inevitable had finally caught up to him.

  “There’s someone downstairs here to see you,” She said, her voice bland and lacking any emotion.

  Makoto just nodded his head before she briskly walked out of his room and slammed the door with an obvious amount of attitude directed at him. He did not move for a couple of minutes before slowly sighing. He did not want to move. He did not want to see anyone. He did not want anyone to see him. It felt like giant chains used for restraining lions and wild beasts were wrapped around him, whispering into his ear about all the whips and beatings he would get if he dared to move. If he had the audacity to think he was beautiful enough for the world to see him.

_I can’t,_

_I can’t,_

_I can’t,_

_I’m scared._

  As his arm moved the blankets down his hands moved over the small, soft rolls of his stomach. He felt warm and lumpy. He aggressively moved his hands back over his rolls. He felt each, and, every, single, one, of them. He rubbed his hands over them and felt the thick sludge of tears welling in his throat.

  He felt the softness of his face.

  He felt the grease of his hair.

  He tasted the foul nature of his breath.

  He could feel the dark circles that had bruised around his eyes as his dreams had beaten him awake, night after night.

  He felt dirty and disgusting.

  He _knew_ he was dirty and disgusting.

  He did not want to see a soul. Not a single one.

  His mother’s face stuffed itself into his mind. A bright and piercing flash of disappointment.

  He felt more _dirty_ tears accumulate in his eyes. He did not want to move, he did not want to see anyone. He was not worth seeing. No one deserved the punishment of having to deal with him. He would not punish them. He would not.

  His mother’s face entered his face once again.

  Still trying to swallow his tears Makoto stood up and walked out of his bed. Clenching and unclenching, clenching and unclenching his hands Makoto sighed. He took a deep breath. He counted to ten. He took a deep breath. He counted to ten.

_It’s okay,_

_It’s okay_.

  He walked around his room, taking note of the intricate aspects of it. He picked up some jeans that had not been washed and grey jumper in the same sorry state. After putting them on he sprayed himself with as much deodorant as he could before taking another deep breath and opening up his bedroom door. He rubbed his face to try and clean it and dry it of his tears. His eyes were still brimmed red. He still saw his mother’s face, but he knew if he could walk down those stairs he had a chance of having five minutes of grace where he would not have to. Maybe she would even smile at him.

  Maybe his father would praise him.

  Maybe his siblings would call him big brother, and give him a hug.

  He knew it would not happen, but if he never let himself believe they might, he would never make it down the stairs.

  Once he made it down he saw Sousuke sitting in the lounge room. His personality and presence warming the entire house.

  “Ah, Makoto, there you are!” He called out. “I wanted to go for a walk, and I haven’t seen your ass in ages. Come with me?”

  Makoto said nothing. He gave no indication of wanting to go, yet he followed Sousuke out the house none the less, after putting his shoes on at the door.  

  As they walked along the streets Makoto was ten steps or so behind Sousuke, yet Sousuke did not seem to mind at all. The faint chirps of a few birds and the wind montaged their walk; a scattering of them dotted themselves along the power lines, creating the image of daytime stars in the sky.

  Makoto felt as if the streets were abandoned of all life, he would have fallen asleep on the road. He cared about being outside, yet at the same time he cared about nothing. He was reluctantly being pulled along in the tides of life, and he stopped trying to hold his breath.

  Once he saw where Sousuke was taking him he hesitated, lifting his head from the ground, stuffing his hands further into the pockets of his jumper.

  Sensing his hesitation Sousuke turned around. “Everything okay over there?”

  Makoto wanted to be honest, but he could not. He sighed and just nodded his head, hoping the whole ordeal would be over swiftly. He did not want to be a bad friend, yet he wanted to go back home and sleep almost equally as much. He wanted to just _disappear_ the most.

  Not buying Makoto’s lacklustre emotions, Sousuke grabbed him by the hand and continued walking. The weight of Sousuke’s hand felt almost has heavy as his heart.

  Together, hand-in-hand they walked down the uneven wooden steps coated in sand. The steps were steep and long – forcing Makoto to play close attention to each one he took. His eyes were locked on the ground. While walking on the sand his shoes flicked up large loose amounts that buried itself into his shoes and rubbed against his heels. Stinging.

  Makoto could still not look at Sousuke as they walked in line with the horizon.

  After walking for a few minutes they made it to the small beach pools. The waves were rising and crashing against the back of it.

  The black stones of the pools were slippery, causing Makoto to grip Sousuke’s hand harder for support. Sousuke simply squeezed Makoto’s hand in return.

  Makoto finally found the courage to look up at Sousuke, who was just smiling at the sea.

  “Why’d you bring me here?”

  Sousuke turned back around to Makoto, grinning. “Because it’s a beautiful fucking day!” He gleamed.

  “Sousuke . . .”

  He shook his head. “Look. I know how it looks; I’m not tryin’ to be some miracle god sent or nothin’. I know I can’t fix whatevers up at the moment. I just came to talk to you, but then I saw how pissed your mum was, so I figured we could come outside to talk. Just humour me, please?”

  Makoto nodded his head.

  The two of them walked along the side of the pool before sitting down. The salty and exhilarating spray of the sea kissed Makoto and helped to wash away the speckles of stains left by his tears.

  “What was up with your old lady anyway?”

  “ . . . She’s just upset that I quit my job,” Makoto replied robotically. As embarrassed as he was, he just wanted to go home. The sooner he answered all of Sousuke’s questions, the sooner he could go back to hiding from the world.

  He could see the cogs of Sousuke’s mind rolling over as he strategized what to say and how to say it. “Don’t worry about her. You can always get another job right?”

  “I can’t work anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t, Sousuke. It’s university all over again, I just _can’t_. I’m not meant to be there. I’m not”

  “That’s why you quit university?”

  “No, no. I went to university because it was expected of me. I wasn’t, I don’t know, I wasn’t meant to be there. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, but I knew it wasn’t there,” Makoto mumbled, his words jamming together. “Sousuke, what did you want to talk about?”

  “Ah, right. Right,” Sousuke said, his voice small and nervous. “I suppose, I’ve just seen that things are a little difficult for you and, um, Haru at the moment. It seems to be getting rather big, but I can’t do anything if I don’t know what’s happened. Rin said Haru wouldn’t really talk, so, I was hoping you might be able to.”

  Makoto was taken aback. His mouth was left ajar for a moment before he could respond. “Why – why do you care so much?”

  “Because I care about you,” He said without hesitation.

  “ _Why?_ ”

  “Because, Makoto, you helped me,”

  “I really, honestly haven’t done much, Sousuke.”

  “You helped me when no one else did. You talk to me when I need to someone to listen to me, and you value my opinions.”

  “I’m really doing what anyone else would do.”

  “Well, then, you are also my friend. I don’t need any other reason than that, now do I?”

  “Sousuke . . .”

  He sighed. “You’re not going to tell me what happened, are you?”

  Makoto shook his head.

  “It wasn’t just about your asexuality was it? There’s more, isn’t there?”

  He hesitated before softly nodding his head.

  Sousuke let out a muffled laugh. “Well, I suppose that’s that then. Just – just promise to talk to me about it when you feel comfortable, okay?”

  “Okay, Sousuke,” Makoto said, his voice warm.

  Before Makoto could fully process it happening, Sousuke took off his shirt and his pants. He jumped into the water, causing it to splash onto Makoto. The water was clear and Makoto could see the broken and blurred image of Sousuke moving through it.

  Makoto slowly took off his shoes and rolled up his pants. He dipped his feet into the frosty water. He watched his toes wiggle and move. The hairs on his legs prickled.

  That moment was one of clarity and pain. Seeing Sousuke move through the water as he did, seeing his hair float around him, Makoto was hit with a tear and wave of reality. He had a friend. He had someone who cared, after so many years; he finally had someone who would be there for him.

  That was how he knew he was doomed.

  He knew Sousuke would not be able to whisk his heart away and save him. It was selfish, but he had hoped he would. He had prayed that someone – Sousuke – would be able to save him from himself. But, he knew in that moment Sousuke could not save him. No one could. He was left to his own defences. That realization obliterated him. He had no paths to move forward on. He was locked away in his own heart.

  Ultimately, he was alone. Alone, disgusting, weak and doomed.

  He soulfully smiled at Sousuke. “Aren’t you a little cold?”

  Sousuke grinned back. “Yeah! I’m fucking freezing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter!  
> I know this one might have been a little boring, but I hope it was also at least a little enjoyable too. :) 
> 
> Okay, so, the main point of this chapter is to highlight the themes that are upcoming in terms of the dynamics and whatnot. Mental illness is a tricky thing, both in fiction and in real life, because people enter it with somewhat rigid perceptions and stuff. I want to try and highlight that in life, especially surrounding a life filled with mental illness, things are not always so clear cut. Things are not just one-sided. I don't know how to fully articulate this without going into spoilers, but I hope you understand the gist I am trying to get at. :) 
> 
> Also! I love writing Sousuke so much, oh my gosh. xD I hope you guys like him too, he is just so spunky, lol. Writing him always puts me in a funny mood. xD 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this instalment. :)  
> Thank you again so much for reading this chapter and for your ongoing support! It means a lot.  
> I hope you all have a wonderful day! :D <3


	8. The Conventions of Pain and The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto and Haru's past is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Thank you so much for reading this chapter! :) I am so glad I was able to get this chapter out this week, I was so worried I would not have been able to. Sadly, I think the chapter next week will have to be pushed back a week, but I will still try to get it out.
> 
> PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU LOOK AT THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter this week :)
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- HEAVY MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND NEAGTIVE REACTIONS TO IT  
> \- Heavy Mentions On Depression  
> \- SELF HARM MENTION (Past)  
> \- Feelings Of Abandonment/Abandonment Due To Mental Illness  
> \- Allusions To Internalized Homophobia  
> \- Negative family/friends reactions to mental illness  
> \- Small Amounts of anxiety  
> \- Acephobia
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, bur merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter, and I hope you all have a wonderful day! :) <3

 

The rain pelted down. It was cold and chilling. The soft _plotter_ of it could be heard as it hit the red cover that was stretched over the small balcony.

His head was rested against the white metal railing, as the smoke of his cigarette curled around his fingers and face. He watched the dots and blurs of people down below run to get out of the rain.

He took another blow of his cigarette.

He heard the click of the balcony door opening. As he turned his to the side he saw Haru walking onto the balcony, wrapped up in a matching grey jumper and sweatpants.

He sat down next to Rin, his knees pulled up to his chest. “What’re you doing here?”

He took another below of his cigarette, the smoke clouding out his mouth and nose. “Nothing much. Just needed some time to think, I guess.”

“Haven’t seen you smoke for a little while now . . .” Haru mumbled, keeping his eyes focused on his knees.

“Ah, sorry,” Rin apologized. “Does it bother you?”

Haru shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I’m just a little worried, is all.”

Rin let out a laugh. “Nah, it’s all good. You should see how much Rei smokes nowadays. He has at least two a day, this is nothing.” He took his finale breath of smoke before squishing the butt of it into the ground. Bits of rain fell onto it. He moved closer to Haru and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. Haru rested his head against his chest.

Their breaths fell into sync.

Together they lost themselves in the sound of the rain and the company of each other. They let their thoughts stay stagnant, or run wild. Whenever they were locked in silence with each other it either soothed them or amplifies their fears in a drastic rate. It never felt forced or uncomfortable, yet it never felt comfortable either. Their insecurities and flaws would be brought into question by themselves. They could feel the tug of need and the thirst for emotional clarification and salvation blend into all other noises of the world.

Haru stretched his fingers out to Rin’s loose hand and tightly gripped his fingers. Rubbing the knuckles with his thumb.

“Haru?” Rin whispered.

“Mmm?”

“Have . . . have I done enough for you?” He asked, voice tight. “Have I done right by you?”

“What do you mean?”

Rin scratched his chin, sighing. “I don’t really know. I think - just with everything that has resurfaced with this whole Makoto thing, I can’t help but think I’ve made a mistake somewhere. That I’ve done something wrong with you.”

“No, never, Rin. You’ve always done enough. You always do the right thing.”

Rin let out a deep chuckle. “Now, I know that’s not true. I know I used be a little shit when I was younger. But, I’m glad you think I haven’t done anything wrong, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t.”

Haru gripped his hand tighter on Rin’s shirt. “Sure it does.”

“Is there anything more I should be doing though? Anything I’m doing wrong?”

“No, why would you think that?”

Rin sighed. “I really don’t know how to ask this without being a huge arse.”

Haru let out a giggle. “You’re already a huge arse, so that’s nothing to worry about.”

Rin squeezed Haru, laughing as he pulled him closer onto his lap. “You’re a cheeky little shit; you know that right, Haru?” He kissed the top of Haru’s head. “But thank you.”

“That’s okay. I promise, no matter what, I won’t get mad at what you say.”

Rin closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the railing. “It’s just; it feels like you don’t trust me sometimes. Because there are secrets you keep from me, and I feel like you wouldn’t keep them from me if you trusted me, and I feel like you would trust me more if I did something better. But I honestly don’t know what that would be – not to say I’m perfect or anything, I’m not, it’s just I can’t think of you ever telling me about any huge flaws of mine. So I don’t know which one of them is upsetting you.”

“But, Rin, I _do_ trust you.”

“Yeah, I know you do. I never want you to feel like you have an obligation to tell me everything. Because you don’t. But I still, I don’t know, hurt when you don’t tell me about big things.”

“Like what?” Haru questioned.

“Like . . . with what happened between you and Makoto. I honestly think I’ve made the situation worse in my head. I honest to god have no idea what happened, and I’m scarred I’ve awfully dramatized it in my imaginations,” Rin confessed. His body was tense as if it was waiting for a blow from Haru.

“I never told you, not because I don’t think I can trust you, or because you’ve done something wrong,” Haru said. “It honestly had nothing to do with you. I was – _am_ – embarrassed by what happened. I don’t like to think about. It never makes me happy. I get angry and frustrated. I get really sad . . . but really, it has nothing to do with you.”

“Really? Because I won’t mind if I have done something,” Rin said.

“Yes, really,” Haru reassured. “But, I’m really sorry I made you feel that way, I had no idea. I didn’t mean to. I could tell you now though, if you’d like.”

Rin straightened up in shock. “What? Really? I don’t want you to force yourself or anything.”

“I’m not, I promise. Just, can you promise not to get mad?”

“Yes, yes of course. I promise.” Rin warpped his arm around Haru’s shoulders. Before pulling him towards his chest again he pushed his cigarette into the concrete and dusty floor of the balcony.

Haru nodded his head. He sighed and then began.

He relieved that moment many times in his dreams, yet it was the first time he was talking about it aloud. At first the words did not find traction in his throat, but after finding the reassuring heat of Rin’s body the words came flooding out, like a freshly smashed open dam.

***

_The evening had started off warm and sticky. The soft blows and sweet kisses of the southerly wind was appreciated and anticipated._

_The long stretch and threads of friendship had brought them to that moment, and like most moments in life, they believed nothing of any significance would happen. Their hearts thrived in the juvenile and optimistic and self-centred folly of youth. They believed all they had built – all they had constructed together - was indestructible and the best of what there was. They believed their friendships were the best and the strongest, so they could never have predicted the blow that would inevitably come and knock down their lives. They believed they owned the world and the future. Consequences were a mere fantasy in their reality of the world – at least, for themselves. They believed that the world would punish all those who did wrong by them, but they held their own accountabilities low, as they knew full well of their reasonings and circumstances. They were typical and archetypal, yet they believed they were special and meaningful, like all the other people around them. They were not well attuned to the destructive yet humbling nature of admitting one’s flaws and limitations in a world full of confident crumbling mountains._

_They never saw how fragile and delicate the strings of friendship and companionship were._

_Rin and Haru sat in the lounge room, resting after a full morning and evening of organising food and drinks, as well as cleaning. Rin argued that it should not have taken so long, since there was only going to be five of them. Haru countered that, yes, that is true, but since_ someone _did not know how to keep a house clean, it took as long as it did._

_The retort was replied to with a lazy kiss on the side of his face._

_“How long do we have until they get here?” Rin mumbled as he rested his head against the lounge._

_Haru tilted his head so he could see the clock on the wall. “Twenty minutes? I think.”_

_Rin groaned._

_“Rei and Nagisa always like to come early, too,” Haru added._

_Rin groaned louder._

_Haru smirked and felt his heart swell. He rubbed Rin’s leg before getting up to go and get changed._

_When he was little, he hated how his parents were almost never home. He went through a stage of despising them. As he grew older, he still held a small hole in his heart, yet he appreciated the space it gave him. He appreciated the room it gave him to try and feel normal. There were some instances were he thought he had too much room that aided him in doing things he would regret as he grew older. But for the most part he had begrudgingly learnt to appreciate it and exploit for his own desires. It left him, he thought, too much space and room for his actions to run rampant. For them to manifest into dark thoughts that he lost the ambitions to tackle, yet it also gave him the room to try things that he wanted to. It gave him the room to express his love – both romantic and sexual – in a way he would not have been able to if his parents had dug a larger hole in his life._

_Once he walked up the stairs he went to his bedroom to get changed._

_Having the same room for his whole life – at that point – was always an odd and surreal thing for him. He had never expressed so many emotions in one place before. That room had seen his darkest secrets. That room had been there as he shifted and changed and found his place in the world. The first place he came out as gay to was himself was in that room, one night as he laid on top of his bed, as he was being tugged between the state of awake and asleep, he came out to himself and the only the only person to hear him was himself and the walls of his room. The first night he brought a dulled razor to his skin had been in that room. The first time he had kissed and had sex with Rin had been in that room. He had cried in that room. He had laughed in that room._

_The first friend he had brought to that room had been Makoto. The first person he said ‘I love you’ to had been in that room._

_He pulled out his change of clothes and got dressed. He brushed his hair and sprayed cologne on himself. He walked his way to the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth he was careful to not get any on the outside of his mouth or on his clothes. He rinsed his mouth with mouth-wash and carefully flossed in-between his teeth._

_As he made his way carefully back down the stairs he heard the rambunctious noise of Rei and Nagisa talking to Rin. Seeing them all together filled Haru with a warm feeling of opulence. He truly believed his friends were divine beings that he had been blessed with._

_“There he is!” Nagisa cried out as he ran over to Haru, giving him a hug. Physically, Haru never showed much response to affection, he knew that, he knew he often came off as someone who did not like to be near people, yet his heart reciprocated affection tenderly and craved it often._

_“At least one of you knows how to dress up nicely,” Rei said, smirking at Rin._

_“It’s a house party! With five of us!” Rin objected. “I look fine – I mean, shit, I’d say I look hot. Not everyone needs to spend two hours to look somewhat presentable, Rei.”_

_“I’ll have you know, I’m not one of those people,” Rei said._

_Nagisa laughed. “You sorta are.”_

_“What?”_

_“I’m not saying you need it – I’m just saying you do spend a suspicious amount of the bathroom for someone who is apparently not fixing his appearance,” Nagisa said._

_“Why are you all ganging up on me?”_

_Nagisa went and hugged Rei. “’Cause you just make it too easy, it’s okay, we still love you.”_

_“Yeah, I question that sometimes,” Rei mumbled, obviously biting back a smile._

_“Hey,” Rin said, “You started it, questioning the hotness of this bod,” Rin ran his hands down his body in an exaggerated manner. “Too bad for you, you offended me. Now you’ll never have it. That, and I have Haru,” He walked over to Haru and gave him a kiss and a hug._

_“You two are adorable,” Nagisa swooned._

_Haru saw how Rei had looked at Nagisa in that moment. Even before then he had thought that Rei and Nagisa would end up with each other. He did not know how long they would take, but he knew it would happen. He also had the inkling of a feeling that the four of them would become even closer if that happened. He knew they both cared about each other deeply, but he also knew they were scared to move forward. He was never overly good at picking up on what other people felt, yet Rei and Nagisa reflected him and Rin in many ways he was unaware of, so it made it easier for him to see what they were feeling. It made their emotions palpable._

_Feeling their love almost felt like a dalliance to Haru, in an odd way. That was how strong their ‘buried’ love was._

_“Haru?” Rin asked._

_“Yes?”_

_“Would you like to go and grab the snacks you bought for tonight? I don’t know where you put them.”_

_Haru nodded his head. “Okay.”_

_He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a large plastic tray. On the tray he placed crackers, a bowl of packeted chips and small sushi rolls. He put some cups and a bottle of fruit juice on the tray too. When he walked back out he saw all of his friends sitting around the table and laughing with each other. It filled him with such happiness._

_Once Rin saw him coming through he stood up and grabbed the tray from Haru, leaving a small peck on his cheek before taking the tray out to the others._

_As they sat around they reminisced, as they often did. When they were younger they were so fixated on the future, yet as they got older and older their passions lied more in what they had done, rather then what they were planning on doing. They were at that peak age that allowed them to dip into both ends and not sound lost or spiteful. Rei and Nagisa spoke of what they were learning at university. Their ambitions seemed high and unnerving, little did they know, Rei would end up working a normal office job, and although Nagisa would achieve his dream of being an artist, it would not be where he wanted and he would not be paid as much as he dreamed he would. They were too young and full of naive ambition to even contemplate that they would not rule the world they wanted to._

_Back then he did not know how far Rin was willing to go for him either. Although he never liked to admit it, because it always felt dirty to do so, he knew he was a better swimmer then Rin. He never trained as hard, he never sacrificed as much as Rin did, but he was better. He knew he was. He always believed that Rin knew it too, that he just did not want to admit it, because it was never a nice feeling to fully admit someone was better. When Rin finally did admit it, there was no malice or hatred towards Haru, which relieved him more than ever thought it would have. Once Rin had sat down and spoken to Haru about it, he said that he was not going to give up swimming, but just swim at a lower level then Haru. He accepted that Haru would be swimming for Japan and he would not. His only request was that they trained together with a private coach. It was such a simple request and Haru took it instantly._

_Back then he never thought it would have been something that happened, so he never had any time to anticipate it. He was glad it worked out the way it did when it finally did happen though._

_Haru did not add much to the conversation that had unravelled around him, yet he felt content to just listen, knowing full well that if he_ did _want to say something they would all stop and listen to him. It was a comforting feeling to know his opinions were valid, even when he did not have any._

_Haru found it funny how well his friends clicked together, despite the differences they held when they were teenagers. He thought it was beautiful and wondrous and incredible that they all blended together in such a smooth and unproblematic manner. It felt like fate had blessed them all._

_“Haru?”_

_“Yes, Rei?” He replied._

_“Do you think we could have some more juice?”_

_“Oh, I’ll grab it,” Rin offered. He stood up and went to the kitchen to retrieve it._

_“You have such a doting boyfriend, Haru.”_

_He laughed, though it was full of love. “Yes, I do, don’t I?”_

_“I don’t remember him being like this when we were really little though. He definitely wasn’t like this in high school,” Nagisa said. Haru always found it odd that Nagisa had such long lasting memories from when he, Rin, Makoto and himself were very young. Haru could not dream of remembering as much as Nagisa did. Lots of memories were scattered and made little sense to him out of context._

_“I don’t know Nagisa, I think he was, maybe. Just in his own way,” Haru said._

_“Haru, I think I have to agree with Nagisa. He’s defiantly not the same. At all,” Rei said._

_“You barely knew him in high school,” Haru said. “Besides, I think he just hated you,” He laughed._

_Rin came back out with the juice in his hands. “I leave for ten seconds and you all use it to talk shit about me, geez,” He said with a face splitting grin._

_“Besides, people are allowed to change,” Haru added. “Wouldn’t it be awful if none of us ever changed? Remember when you liked to look five years younger then what you were, Nagisa?”_

_“Hey! I was fucking adorable!” Nagisa countered._

_“Maybe so, but if you were still like that, you wouldn’t be sporting that sorry excuse for a beard,” Haru said._

_Nagisa’s eyes went large before he burst out laughing. “Oh my god! Did you just sass me, Haru? I never thought I would see that.”_

_Rin laughed. “You were picking on his man, he doesn’t take too lightly to that,” He sat down next to Haru and pulled him into his lap._

_“We were doing nothing of the sort,” Rei said, readjusting his glasses. “We were pointing out facts, he just cannot handle them.”_

_“Oh, is that so?” Rin asked, raising his right eye brow._

_“Absolutely,” Rei and Nagisa said in unison._

_Haru poured himself a cup of juice and smiled around the edge of it as he listened to his friends continue their humorous and hyperactive banter. They all looked so full of life. They filled him up with life. He felt like he would do anything to make then happy. He felt like he would push himself to his limits for them, and it would still never be enough to say thank you, sorry, thank you thank you thank you._

_When his world stopped spinning on its own they were always there to help push it along and give it traction until he found the strength to do it himself._

_His friends made him forget about his past he buried down deep. They made him feel normal and calm. They made him feel as though his future had hope. They made him feel as though he had a home not just in that moment, but one waiting for him in all of the years to come._

_He got sad and agitated and the thought of every having to go back, and in his mind, the disruption of his friends was something that would send him back. He never wanted to go back._

_In retrospect, he would always act irrationally around the prospect of the placement of people in his life, he did not see or feel things clearly, but it did not matter, because they were his emotions. They were the only reality he ever knew, so they were important and precious to him._

_Rei groaned as he patted down his pants. “Ah, I forgot my cigarettes and I really need a smoke. I think I’ll head down the street and get some. Do you guys want anything?”_

_“Do you mind if I come with you?” Haru asked._

_Rei smiled. “Not at all.”_

_“Grab me a strawberry ice-cream!” Nagisa shouted enthusiastically. It passed off better when his voice was lighter and not as deep as it was in that moment._

_The room turned towards him, all three of them had awkward and humorous expressions on their face._

_“What?” He asked. “I may look manly now, but my heart still belongs to anything cute and pink. I refuse to let my dick and chromosomes come between me and a delicious and beautifully cute pink ice-cream.”_

_Haru noticed the endearing smile that curved into Rei’s face._

_“I don’t want anything,” Rin said._

_Rei and Haru both nodded before making their way to the front door and out to the street. As they were walking along they did not speak, yet Haru felt at peace. He felt comfortable in the moment and had no desire to fill it with words._

_As they walked along the path to the convenience store they saw the offing in the distance. It blurred and blended into the sand. The colours looked like a dark spill of an artist’s pallet. The street lamps illuminated it and added to the faded fuzz of the stars in the sky. They could see the bright yellow glow of the houses they walked past, in some they could even see a few families eating dinner and talking about their days. The still yet warm air dried against their skin._

_In that moment Haru felt as if he was conflated with the world._

_“While I buy the cigarettes could you go and grab the ice-cream for Nagisa, please?”_

_“Yeah, sure,” Haru replied, leaving Rei outside of the convenience store with the cigarette machine._

_The strong florescent lights hit him instantly as he walked in. Causing him to squint for a moment before his eyes adjusted. He saw the cashier looking out at the store with half asleep half dead eyes, their posture was perfect though, and they greeted him kindly, despite not even moving their head to look at him._

_He made his way to where the ice-cream was kept. He picked the largest and pinkest ice-cream he could find. Once he paid for it he saw Rei waiting for him out the front of the store with a dopey smile on his face._

_“Ready to go?” Rei asked._

_Haru nodded his head._

_They walk back was shorter then it was to get there, as it always was, for some reason. Haru and Rei were talking quietly amongst each other until they saw something that made them stop and stare._

_They saw this tall man just standing out the front of Haru’s house._

_Despite the warm weather he was wearing long pants and a thick woollen jumper. He was breathing in large and counted breaths. His whole body – particularly his chest and back- moved with it in waves. His hands were fidgeting amongst themselves. He appeared to be within a battle amongst himself whether to move forward, stay where he was, or to move back._

_Haru was almost cross at himself for not noticing who it was sooner. Almost._

_The man looked as though he was trying desperately to compress himself. To make himself smaller. Though with his large height and chubby body it came across as rather odd looking to Haru. Once they got a little closer they knew who it was though._

_Haru never thought he would have been around for the decline of Makoto. Makoto, in his memories, had always been so strong. He was not always tall though. There was a time where Haru was taller than him, but never quite as strong. He had always envied that about Makoto. Makoto had always been the emollient in his life. Haru had always found comfort in that. But before he knew it, that was no longer the Makoto that he would see. He wondered when he had changed, and how he had missed it. Then he wondered if maybe Makoto had always been a little like that, but Haru had just refused to acknowledge it, scared of what it meant for himself._

_He did not hate the way Makoto had become._

_At least, he never used to think he did._

_“Makoto? Is that you?”Rei called out, waving his hand._

_Makoto slightly jumped before turning his head to Rei and Haru. He tried not to show it, but seeing them made him more frightened. They had broken the plan in his head. He had not anticipated them seeing him like that, so he was unsure of what was the best way to react. He did not trust his voice so he did not say anything. He had tried to have as much confidence in himself as possible, but his confidence was a rare extravagant jewel that was rarely collected and came at a dire and unsustainable cost. Makoto wanted to fade away so that there was nothing left but his heart. He wanted his heart to be ethereal._

_Makoto gave a little wave back._

_“I didn’t think you were coming – I mean, Rin said you were, but I had a feeling you wouldn’t show. I’m glad you could come,”Rei said extending his hand._

_Makoto shook it. “T-thank you. I’m glad I could too,” He said. “Hello, Haru.”_

_“Hello, Makoto,” Haru said, with a smile. It was a genuine smile, yet Haru could not help but feel off about the situation. He felt something was shifting in him, he did not know what, but he could feel it. Though he tried to brush it off._

_He walked over to Makoto and gave him a hug, the type he had been giving to Makoto for years. Makoto bent down and Haru tilted his head to side so his face was buried near the nook of Makoto’s neck. He could hear the soft sound of Makoto contently sighing. He let Makoto breath in his scent the way he always did. When he went to reciprocate it though, something was not right. Makoto did not smell like himself._

_It may have sounded odd, but over the years, no matter what cologne or deodorant Makoto would use, there was always something distinctly ‘Makoto’ about it. Haru could never place his finger on what it was, but he knew it was always there. In that moment though, it was gone. Haru could not find it, and it made him somewhat agitated. His rule, his certainty of the situation, of that little situation, was gone. He tried to brush it off in the moment and continued his way inside, with Rei and Makoto following behind him._

_“What, you didn’t bring any alcohol with you?” Rei asked, jokingly._

_“N-no,” Makoto stammered. “I’m sorry.”_

_Rei affectionately patted Makoto on the back and laughed as they walked to where Rin and Nagisa were sitting._

_“Did you get my ice-cream?” Nagisa asked, as he saw them._

_“Yes,” Haru replied, handing it over to him._

_“This is the best! Thank you!” Nagisa said. “Did you get your cigarettes, Rei?”_

_“I sure did,” Rei replied, happily. “You want one, Rin?”_

_“Oh, no, no thanks,” He said, looking at Haru. “I’m trying to quit. They aren’t the best thing for a swimmer to be having, you know?”_

_“It’s all good; it just means there’s more for me. I admire you for trying to quite though; I know how hard it can be.”_

_Rin laughed. “Thanks man, I haven’t had any for three weeks now, so I think I’m going pretty good.”_

_“Yeah!” Nagisa said. “That’s awesome. Before you know it, you won’t have had any for three years.”_

_“Hopefully,” Haru smiled, griping Rin’s hand. He tried to ignore the peculiar look Makoto gave him before darting his eyes away._

_“Speaking of,” Nagisa continued. “Since Makoto’s here, can we open up the beers now?”_

_“I don’t see why not,” Rin said._

_Haru went to the kitchen to pull the cans of beer out of the fridge. Through his peripheral vision he saw Makoto looking out at Rin and Rei and Nagisa with an almost fearful look. He looked like he was about to combust. He kept twiddling his thumbs and breathing in a largely restricted manner._

_He had seen Makoto like that before, but it had always been with some distance, and it had never been associated with his friends before._

_He was sure it would pass._

_He was sure it was nothing._

_He was sure Makoto would sort it out._

_It almost was like Makoto’s atmosphere and heart were starting to smell like petrichor. It was a smell that did not suite him and was one that disoriented Haru’s senses. It was too damp and dank. It smelt like his past. A past he did not want to re-enter, at any cost._

_When Haru brought the drinks back out and everyone got to talking, he noticed, still, how Makoto would sit off to the side, as if his friends were poisonous, part of him was worried as to why Makoto would have been acting as such, but the other part of him was unjustifiably agitated over it. He wanted everyone to be okay. He wanted everyone to be sitting in contentment. He did not want dints in his finely crafted circle._

_He would beat it back into perfection._

_“How’ve you been lately, Makoto?” Haru asked, keeping a hawk eye on him._

_Makoto jumped; his body as tense as rabbit’s. “I-I’ve been okay, thank you, Haru. What about you?”_

_Haru smiled. “I’ve been going very well thank you,”_

_“What’ve you been doing since you dropped out of Uni?” Rin asked, taking a bite of food._

_Makoto averted his eyes and looked down at the floor. “Not much . . . I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do and stuff.”_

_“All good, man.” Rin replied._

_After that the room fell into a flowing conversation once again. The room was warm with affection and brotherhood. Their lives were once again weaving together in a way that settled and eased Haru’s crashing heart._

_Haru and Rin had eventually moved into the kitchen. The flow and uneven flickering of the light glowed in the room. They slowly washed the dishes together, their hips brushing against each other. The sounds of Rei and Nagisa mumbling to each other in the lounge room could be heard._

_Haru turned his face to Rin’s. Though he was not sure, he often looks back on that moment and sees it as the one he whole-heartily and fully fell in love with Rin. The simplistic nature of the setting, the ordinary complexities of Rin and the way the scene painted itself out before him, truly made. Rin’s hair was a tad frizzy, and he looked tired, and he was concentrating on a mundane task. Yet, to Haru, in that moment, he was beautiful._

_He heard the front door and saw Makoto walk back in – he had not even been aware that he left – but then he saw as soon as Makoto came in he took a deep, shuddering breath, and just left again._

_Haru curtly turned his head back and tried to ignore it. He would not allow himself to fall into a bad mood._

_“Do you know what’s been up with Makoto lately, Haru?” Rin asked, still washing and drying the dishes._

_“No, not really. He’s been like this for well over a year now though.”_

_Rin hummed. “Have you been speaking to him much?”_

_Haru thought about it. “I’d say we haven’t spoken any more or less than normal. I mean, since he entered University that is.”_

_“I guess I just thought he would’ve fixed whatever was wrong with himself by now.”_

_“I-I agree . . .” Haru mumbled._

_“Maybe you two should hang out for a bit tonight. I know you miss him, and I’m pretty sure he misses you too.”_

_“Yes, yes definitely,” Haru replied. “I’ll go after I finish helping you with this.”_

_“Nah, that’s okay,” Rin said. “It’s getting kinda late, and there’s not much let here. You go ahead, yeah?” He kissed Haru on the lips, whiling pulling the wash cloth out of his hands. Their fingers lingered for a moment before Haru turned around and started walking out to the front door._

_Makoto was sitting on the side of the road. His head was resting on his knees as his tears bled into his pants. His hands ran through his hair. It felt as if the night was swallowing him whole. As he tilted his head to the side and looked at the sky through the bubbles of tears, he felt trapped. At night, it was so easy to see how circular the world was. He could see the sky curving down, like a giant bowl. He felt like he was trapped creature in a bowl, being forced fed oxygen to live. No matter how far he would run, he would always hit the glass edges of the bowl. There was no escape._

_He wrapped his arms around his knees, feeling the strain and the pull of his body. His breathing had slowed down, yet it felt artificial and fake. Every breath was taken because he was thinking intently about it, not because his body wanted to live naturally. He felt a mix of everything and nothing all at once. It tasted like pure deft and dirt in his mouth; clogging at the base of his throat._

_Somewhere along the pathway of his life he got lost; and he questioned if he ever truly wanted to be found. Did not all of life’s great discoveries come from those who had lost their way?_

_He heard the small sound of shoes walking along the ground._

_Even before he saw who it was, Makoto’s heart knew had gone looking for him._

_“What’re you doing sitting out here?” Haru asked._

_Makoto shrugged his shoulders._

_Haru sat down next to him – Makoto could smell his cologne and feel the small heat coming from him._

_Together, in silence, they looked out at the street._

_The same street they would run along as little boys, when the world was simpler and problems could be solved in an afternoon. The strings of the past tugged Makoto back those times, he wanted to go back more than he wanted anything else. He wanted to feel like he mattered again. Not to anyone else, he did not need to feel like he mattered to other people, although that was important too. He wanted to feel like he mattered to himself. He felt isolated and disgusted in his own body, and it was one of the loneliest things he had ever felt in his life._

_“We haven’t seen much of you lately, Makoto,” Haru said, keeping his face straight._

_“I know. I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s okay,” Haru said. “But, now that you’re here, you might want to cheer up a little, yeah?”_

_“What?”_

_“I mean, you’ve sorted out everything you needed to, right?” Haru felt tense. He knew he was probably overstepping. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but he felt like he was under attack. He felt like his bubble of happiness was being compromised, and he did not like it. Even if it was Makoto that was breaking it down. He was too scared to go back; he was fanatical about upholding his section of paradise._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Haru,” Makoto said. “But I’ll try . . . I do want to talk to you about some stuff though. I-I never wanted to, but, I g-guess it has recently been brought to my attention that not talking about stuff, umm, it . . . it does bad things to my health.”_

_“Okay . . .” Haru said, dubiously, still keeping his eyes from Makoto’s._

_“I’m-I’m not exactly . . . I’m not exactly straight.”_

_Haru turned his head towards Makoto’s, his eyes wide. “Wait, are you serious?”_

_Makoto nodded his head. He bit his lips. He wanted to turn away from Haru, but he knew it he did he would not be able to look at him again. “I’m . . . I’m, a, I’m a homoromantic asexual.”_

_Haru’s eyebrows drew up in confusion. “Makoto, what the heck is that even?”_

_Makoto took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “It just means that I’m not sexually attracted to anyone but I’m romantically attracted to b-boys.”_

_Haru went quiet. His eyebrows still drawn in confusion. “Makoto . . . That’s, I mean, I don’t think that’s a thing,” He said after a time of waiting._

_“It is, Haru . . .”_

_“But, how can it be?” He asked. “Are you trying to make fun of me?”_

_“What?” Makoto asked, his voice rose from shock. “Where did that come from? How can me being that be making fun of you?”_

 

_“You’re trivialising my situation!” Haru cried. “People have sex in relationships, Makoto, that’s sort of what makes them different from other relationships. There’s nothing wrong with that.”_

_Makoto could feel his tears lodging themselves in his throat. “That’s-that’s not what I’m saying. I’m not saying having sex is bad, Haru, I never said that. I’m just saying I don’t feel that way about people.”_

_“Okay, fair enough, but then you aren’t having a relationship with them. Your just friends.”_

_“That’s not true, I can still fall in love with them.”_

_Haru shook his head. “But how would you know?”_

_Makoto stood up, he looked down at Haru. “Because I know what love feels like! I’ve felt it for years! Maybe you should be asking yourself that, Haru!”_

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_Makoto dropped down to his knees; he grabbed Haru by the shoulders and pulled him into his chest. He held Haru as if any second someone was going to come along and rip them apart for years. He rested his nose on Haru’s head._

_In that moment Makoto broke. He told Haru something he had sworn to himself he would never tell him. Even in the years to come he would never understand why he decided to do it, but in that moment, it felt like it was all he was destined to do. “I-I love you, Haru. I love you so much. And not just as a friend. I love you in almost all respects of the word. I want to hold you forever. I want you to love me, too, oh please. Please, will you love me?” Makoto asked, his voice breaking. “I love you so much, Haru, I have for years. I’ve loved you for so long.”_

_Haru said nothing. He did not know what to say at first. He thinks there might have been a time when he was younger that he loved Makoto. Even in that moment, he loved Makoto, but he knew it was a different kind of love. He knew that even if they did love him the way Makoto wanted him to, Haru was still with Rin ( and still loved him with all he had), and Makoto was still ‘asexual’._

_“But, Makoto,” Haru said. “You’re asexual. And I don’t feel that way about you. I don’t love you.”_

_“Please, please, Haru. Please,” Makoto cried, his tears dripping into Haru’s hair._

_Haru pulled away from Makoto’s embrace. Even though he could not make out Makoto’s face, he saw enough to know he was being pushed over the edge._

_He felt like his paradise that was locked away from the past was being decimated. “Let’s just go back inside, and forget about all of this, okay?” Haru said. “You’ve worked out all of your problems; we can go back and just pretend none of this happened, okay?”_

_“You, you keep saying that, Haru. What problems?”_

_“We’ve all noticed that you’ve been going through something lately. But you’re here now, so I’m sure you’ve worked through it,” Haru could feel himself getting tense. He never liked those situations. He never knew how to handle them. He just wanted to get back to his house and forget all about it. In two weeks everyone would have moved on and he would not have to travel back into his past. He was adamant about never going back. No one would take him there, not even Makoto._

_“Wait – you knew, you all knew about that?” Makoto cried._

_Haru avoided eye contact with Makoto. “I mean, you were pretty obvious about it. So we thought if we gave you space, you would be okay . . . and it seems to have worked out that way,” Haru mumbled, wanting nothing more than to just go back to his house._

_“I – I thought you had all started to hate me.”_

_“It’s not like you were showing up to much things anyway, or if you did you were really aloof and stuff. It’s been going on for more than a year, so we left you to your own devices, what did you want us to do?” Haru asked._

_Even back then, Makoto was not sure what sparked it. Not fully. He had never been an angry person, and even then, he was not feeling angry per se. He felt like he had just split open. As if his heart had been blended up and poured over burnt ashes. He felt betrayed, and so he popped, exposing the hideous nature of his insecurities over the person he loved most in the world. Even if he knew it was inevitable, it was one of his greatest regrets in life. If only he had sucked it up, if only he had just nodded his head and let it go like he had all the other times in life, maybe things could have stayed in the illusion of cleanliness and love for a few years longer._

_“Do you know what that felt like?” Makoto asked. “I was always there to help all of you – especially you, Haru! I was patient, and I never did it for anything in return, but when I hit my rock bottom you just abandoned me! I never asked for any of these problems.”_

_“Makoto . . .”_

_“Do you know how lost I’ve been? All my so-called-friends are out there living their lives and actively avoiding me! I –I know I have problems, but I don’t think they warranted me being left behind. How is that fair?”_

_“Makoto, let’s not do this. Okay? It’s not like we knew everything. Let’s just leave this,” Haru said._

_Makoto wanted to stop. He felt like he was gutting himself every time he spoke, but he was falling deeper into the pit of retribution. His words were flowing out without a care. “None of you thought to question why I never showed up? None of you took the time to see how my emotions and actions were changing? I was miserable while in school and all of a sudden I drop out and don’t act like I normally do? None of you noticed that at all?” Makoto questioned._

_“Of course we did!” Haru cried. “It was obvious! But how were we meant to deal with it, Makoto? You wouldn’t let us in, you wouldn’t talk. We knew it was pointless to try. We just tried to get on as best we could and we hoped you would work it out for yourself.”_

_“You abandoned me! I care that the others shut me out, but you, Haru? You shut me out the most! You refused to look at me; you never came to see how I was doing. After all those years, you just threw it all away because you don’t care about anyone but yourself! Haru wants to have an existential crisis? Oh, no worries! You will have everyone running to your side and shoving praise and love down your throat. Makoto wants to suffer from something he has no control over? Well, screw him! He’s on his own!”_

_“Makoto, it’s not like th-”_

_“Yes it is!” Makoto bellowed. “It is exactly like that, Haru. I never wanted anyone to fix my problems; I just wanted to know I had a support unit. I just wanted to know I had friends.”_

_“You did have friends. We never went anywhere, Makoto.”_

_“Didn’t go anywhere? Don’t kid yourself, Haru. You all disappeared. Stop trying to justify what you all did! Just own it! You were all horrible! Do you know how hard it was to deal with all my voices? All the problems in my head? It doesn’t help when half the things I’m worrying about are being proven by my friends! The thoughts in my head are dark, Haru, they are ones I don’t even recognise as my own sometimes, but I still have to live with them. I had to fight it all on my own. I had to walk through that self-hatred with no one to help me. Do you know how weak and useless that made me feel? Do you? I mean, at first I just thought I was seeing things. I thought I was being self-conscious. But you all knew! You knew something was wrong, and you didn’t even care!”_

_“What would you have had us done then, Makoto?” Haru spat, his voice growing frustrated. “Did you expect us to just magically take away all of your problems? You of all people know that is not how it works. Maybe if you stopped blaming the world for all of your problems you would not have pushed everyone away! Ever think of that?”_

_Makoto could see that Haru had regretted what he said. He could see his face shifting to one of guilt, it did not matter though. Makoto had snapped._

_“I never asked for you to fix my problems! I never blamed you for them!” Makoto screamed. “I just wanted you to not throw me away the minute I became lost. To stay by me so when I sorted myself out and could see clearly again I would be able to see I was not alone through it all! I never asked for much, Haru. I just wanted friends that loved me. I just wanted friends that cared about me and accepted me! Is that really such an awful thing to want? Is it? Am I truly that horrible and disgusting of a person that I don’t even deserve that? Is that it, Haru? Do you really hate me that much?” Makoto could feel hot tears building up in his eyes. He was determined to not let them fall. He never did have much control over his eyes though._

_“No. No, Makoto, I -”_

_“Shut up!”_

_Haru flinched, but held his ground. “This is has been hard on all of us, please, just listen to m-”_

_“How has it been hard on you? Have you had to live like this? You haven’t even had to watch me be like this, because you threw me away like some old piece of junk!”_

_“Don’t you dare, Makoto! You know damn well that I know what it’s like. You were there for fucks sake! You saw it first-hand. I never threw you away!”_

_“Yes you did! And it is as you said. You know what it is like – you of all people should have been there for me!”_

_“No, no I didn’t, I-”_

_“Stop denying at this point, Haru,” Makoto was balling. His chest was tight and he could feel his throat getting smaller. “I supported you. I was there for you. I helped you chase your dreams. I remained your friend, because that’s what being a friend means. I stayed by your side. Because I still cared about you. I still loved you; I still wanted to be your friend. I knew you just needed time, so I gave you time. And I was right, you started getting better. You started becoming the Haru I knew again. But then when I needed you, when I needed my friends, when I needed my best friend, everyone walked away.” Makoto sighed. “You walked away.”_

_“Please, Makoto, why do you keep on going back to that? We never left you! You were so difficult to be around. We didn’t know what to do. There was nothing we could have done.”_

_Makoto stammered. “H-haru. I can’t do this, I can’t.” He felt the hot tears of his emotions dribble down his face._

_“Why can’t you just admit we aren’t in the wrong? Why are you so adamant on blaming us? That’s what I don’t understand.”_

_“I’m just telling you how I feel! Does it matter who is right or who is wrong? This is how I feel and how I feel is important. I’m not going to be sidelined with this. I just wanted you to listen to me, Haru, that’s all I ever wanted. It’s all I want.”_

_“Really? Because to me it sounds like you just wanted to tell me what an awful person I am. I’m not the bad guy here. I’m not!”_

_“No, Haru, you’re not. Happy?” He asked. “But you definitely aren’t any saint. You hurt me! Not just you, but Rei, Nagisa and Rin hurt me too! Why can’t you see that? Your actions hurt me! You weren’t good friends.”_

_“M-maybe you gave u-us no other choice? Huh, M-makoto?” Haru’s voice cracked._

_“Why is all of this my fault?” He choked. “H-haru, I just wanted my friends. I just wanted someone to show they cared. I don’t have all the answers. I know I have limitations, but I just wanted to know I had somewhere I could go. Do you know how scared I have been through all of it? Do you know how fucking lonely it has been?” Makoto’s voice broke. He had barely energy left. His head felt dizzy. He sat back down on the side of the road. He could not stop the tears falling out of his eyes._

_“Makoto, I-”_

_“Do you know why I didn’t contact any of you for around a solid month?” Makoto asked. He could feel the dirt of the ground beneath his shoes. He could feel the night soaking him up. He could feel the past claim him and the future slice apart his ladder to freedom. “I was in hospital. I’d tried to kill myself.”_

_Haru felt his heart hit the base of his stomach. He could not hear anything. He could not feel anything. The only thing in his sights was the little version of him, drowning in the black tar of the unknown future. “Why would you tell me that?” He whispered._

_“’cause no one went to see me while I was there. Not my family, not my friends,” Makoto replied grimly. “My friends didn’t even ask me where I was. I thought at first, oh, maybe they’re just really busy. They all have very busy lives. They still care about me. But it turns out I was wrong, as always. You didn’t care. None of you did.”_

_Haru could feel tears of his own building up in his eyes. He felt if he did not do what he needed to he would begin drowning again, and he never wanted that. Never again._

_“I can’t do this, Makoto. I can’t be around you. You’re trying to manipulate me, and I can’t be around that,” Haru whispered. He saw Rei, Nagisa and Rin walking down the street to them. He looked at Makoto, who was shaking and sobbing into his arms._

_Haru felt stuck. He felt like he could not move. He did not feel like he as stuck in the past or even the prospect of the future. He was just stuck in time and his emotions. Once he saw Rin’s face he felt his limbs loosen._

_He took one last look at Makoto, their eyes met and what was reflected in them was so dark that Haru shivered. He had never realised how similar he and Makoto were. He hated it. “Makoto . . . I need you to leave,” Haru whispered, his voice cracking._

_Makoto stood with shaky legs. As he turned around he saw Rin hugging a crying Haru and Rei and Nagisa stroking his arms. He walked down the street each step feeling like a blow to his spine and his heart. He had severed any ties towards comfort he could have hoped for._

_I’m so stupid, He thought._

_I’m so selfish, He thought._

_Why do I mess everything up, He thought._

_Why am I so weak, He thought._

_Why am I so fucked up, He thought._

_As they walked away from each other, the elastic band wrapped around their hearts snapped. Sending them waves apart and blistering the skin. Their hearts remained tender and soft after that, while the elastic band dragged along the ground. Picking up all the filth the world had left behind._

***

Rin sat at the dining table with his head in his heads. At the mercy of his thoughts.

The storm still rang outside, yet he was dry and compressed in a barricade of queries and worries. Even with Haru upstairs sleeping he felt isolated in what was expected of him. He did not know what pathway was the right one. He listened to the sound of the rain spitting against the glass and softly sighed into his muffled hands. He smelt the soap that covered them.

Rin pulled his mobile out of his pocket and dialled. He wanted through the long rings.

“Hey, Rin,” Said the voice. “What’s up?”

‘Hey, Sousuke. I’m sorry for calling up like this . . . I just needed to talk you about something.”

“No, that’s fine. What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Haru. He finally told me what happened, and, I just don’t know. I’m just questioning everything about myself. I feel like I need to be stronger for him, but sometimes I think that’s what helped this whole mess.”

“It’s alright, Rin. Just take it slow. I’ve got plenty of time to listen,” Sousuke reassured.

***

Makoto lay asleep in his room.

Over in the corner his fish sat in its bowl, slowly swimming around, around, around.

_Around._

_Around._

_Around._

_Around._

Then it slowed even further. Its movements became slow and sluggish.

As the rain continued to pour outside his fish stopped moving around its bowl. The life of it spread through the water of the bowl and left its body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! :D <3 
> 
> Gosh, okay, I apologies that this chapter got a bit heavy, I know I dealt with a lot of intense things with this chapter.  
> I actually really like Rei and Nagisa in the anime, but for this story I'm really enhancing their negative attributes, so I don't think they really act the way they did in high school. Which is also normal, not too many people are the exact same as they were in high school.  
> I really want to show the idea that sometimes when mental illness is involved, no one is purely 'good' or 'bad' (most of the time) and a lot of the time people are just placed in awful situations because of it. Because although people always need to take ownership of their actions, and mental illness does not excuse terrible, terrible behaviour, sometimes behaviour is not fully bad, when the context in understood. But it can still be painful and hurt like nothing else. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, I hope you have an absolutely wonderful day! <3 :)


	9. Karma's Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto reaches a breaking point, however, Karma is there to catch him as he falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you so much for reading this chapter! And thank you for waiting the extra week. :)  
> I went back and re-did the last chapter because there were lots of embarrassing spelling errors, ahaha.  
> But also!!! This story has reached over 1000 hits!! Ahh!!! Thank you all so so so much!!! You are all so wonderful and lovely. <3  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please, please make sure you look at the trigger warning list for it. 
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- HEAVY MENTIONS OF SUICIDE/ SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ACTIONS  
> \- Heavy Mentions On Depression  
> \- HEAVY/ GRAPHIC MENTIONS OF SELF HARM MENTION (Past)  
> \- Feelings Of Abandonment/Abandonment Due To Mental Illness  
> \- Negative family/friends reactions to mental illness  
> \- Small Amounts of anxiety

_He gripped the straps of his bag. He made his way through the house. Slowly. As he made his way through the empty hallway he knew what he was going to find. He knew what he was going to see. He had hoped he would have been wrong._

_He knew he would not be._

_Once he turned the corner he saw that the toilet room door was shut. As he walked up to it he heard to soft and muffled sounds of crying and hiccupping. He closed his eyes and composed himself before he took the next step. He knew he would need all of his strength for the scene that was going to unfold in front of him._

_He knew it would be okay. He came prepared. He was always prepared for the sorrow that was behind the wooden door. Waiting for him._

_Waiting and needing._

_He needed him._

_He had to be strong._

_He had to be strong._

_One more time._

_Two more times._

_Ten more times._

_He had to be strong. He had to be._

_He knocked on the door, softly yet firmly. “Haru? Is it okay for me to come in?”_

_He heard no response._

_“Haru?” He asked again._

_He heard some movements before the click of the lock turning rang through his ears. He took another deep breath before pushing the door open. The room smelt of dried piss with the faintest lingering of metallic blood._

_Haru had his knees brought up to his chest. His hair was damp and sticky with sweat – it stuck around his face in odd and spiked angles. His eyes were dulled and empty. Bits of spit was smeared around his mouth and dribbled down the curve of his chin._

_“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Makoto,” He said. Though it was so soft Makoto almost missed it._

_Makoto removed his backpack and sat next to Haru. Careful to make sure their bodies did not touch. He moved his hand across to Haru, his palm open. He tried to keep it steady, it was a taxing task as he could not help but look at the blood that bubbled in beads across Haru’s ghostly pale arm. He waited, and he planned on waiting for as long as it took for Haru to relinquish his bleeding arm to him freely. He knew he had to give Haru the control of the situation, yet it was one of the hardest things he had ever made himself do. No matter how many times he found himself in that situation, it was one of the hardest things he ever did. Each time._

_After a few tentative minutes Haru finally placed his self-mutilated arm in the warm and soft grip of Makoto._

_It took all of Makoto’s heart to not shake. The bitterly cool tiles of the room kept him grounded. Using his free hand he pulled his backpack closer to him and clumsily tried to open it. Once it was zipped open wide enough for him to stick his arm in, it he did so and pulled out a little plastic bag full of wipes and bandages._

_He carefully cleaned Haru’s arm of its blood. He placed a medical cloth over it before he started wrapping it with the bandage. Haru sat there patiently, his eyes locked on the floor. A few tears still leaked out of his eyes and dragged themselves down his blotchy and red cheeks._

_Makoto never called Haru’s cuts beautiful._

_He never called them ugly._

_He often made no comment about them. He just cleaned them and comforted Haru. He thought if he spoke of them too much he would have been somehow enabling Haru in a way he was scared he would not be able to save him from._

_After he finished wrapping Haru’s arm he held it a little longer. He could feel the pulse of Haru_ pumping, thumping, pumping, thumping _._

_“I’m sorry, Makoto,” Haru mumbled through his tears._

_Makoto never knew the right thing to say to that. He was never cross at Haru for what he did, but he thought if he said ‘no, that’s okay, Haru’ that he would be saying what Haru was doing was okay. Which it was not. But he did not want Haru thinking he was in trouble, because then he might not confide in Makoto anymore, and that scared Makoto. Not because Haru would not tell him, but because he knew that would mean he would not tell anyone. That was the worst thing that could happen, Makoto thought._

_“I’m glad you called me. You did the right thing,” Makoto said._

_Haru meekly nodded his head._

_“Are you able to stand up?” Makoto asked as he let go of Haru’s arm. As Haru stood up he legs shook and he leaned against the wall. Makoto shot up and gripped his arms around Haru’s shoulder and waist. Stabilising him. Haru was panting as he closed his eyes._

_“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Makoto whispered. “Let’s just sit down here for a little while, yeah? We’re in no rush.”_

_As they slowly slid down to the floor Haru started to rest his head against Makoto’s chest. Once they were on the floor again Haru moved so he was sitting in Makoto’s lap, his hands tightly gripping on Makoto’s shirt. Makoto brought his hand up and rubbed small circles on Haru’s back. He tilted his head back so it was resting against the wall. He knew he had to act like the situation was under control, for Haru’s sake, but he did not know what he was doing. He did not know if he was doing the right or wrong thing. He did not if he should tell someone, and if he were to, who was he supposed to tell? The teachers at school that Haru hated? The parents of Haru who were almost never home? His own parents who Haru had barely met? A doctor, who Haru said he would break if he had to see? Who was he supposed to tell when the only person Haru was willing to open up was Makoto? He thought, maybe he could tell Rin. Maybe Haru would talk to Rin. Maybe Rin had all the answers, but Rin had moved away, and he knew any mention of Rin made Haru upset._

_What was he supposed to do? What was the right option? What action would save Haru? He did not know. He thought he did not know because he was only sixteen, so he was just too young to find the answer that would be so obvious and clear to an adult. Though, the more he thought about it, the more he realised he probably did not know the right answer because there was no right answer. There was no outcome where everyone would be fully content. Some people may tell him, ‘Of course there is a right answer. Send Haru to a doctor. Tell someone who can help him. Send him to a professional.’ For a long time, that was what he thought he should do. But when he saw Haru’s broken face and pleading eyes, he questioned everything. Even if it was the most logical solution, maybe Haru would not be okay with it. And if Haru hated it, what was the point? It was his life after all. Who was Makoto to dictate what Haru had to do? Maybe Haru would be okay with it after receiving help for a month or so, maybe he would realize it was not a bad thing. But Makoto could not know for sure. Maybe he would always hate it, and Makoto did not want to risk it._

_If he was the only person Haru could lean on, so be it. He would remain strong and help drag Haru over all the hills he needed to._

_“Makoto?” Haru stammered into his chest._

_“Hmm?”_

_“I’m really sorry . . .”_

_Makoto hugged Haru and rested his chin on his head. “Do you think you could eat and drink something for me?” He asked._

_Haru hesitated before nodding his head._

_“Can you stand yet?”_

_Haru shook his head._

_“Are you okay if I leave you for a bit to grab you your food and drink?”_

_“That’s okay,” Haru whispered, his voice still hoarse._

_Makoto carefully moved Haru off him and rested him against the wall. Once he stood up he wiped the droplets of blood off the toilet set and closed the lid. Before leaving he looked back at Haru who was just staring at him softly._

_“I’ll be quick,” Makoto said with a small smile._

_Once he made it to the kitchen he dropped down onto the ground and wept. He could not stop himself from shaking and crying. He knew he had to be strong, for Haru, he knew that. That did not stop it from hurting though. It did not stop it from wrecking him. Every time he had to come to Haru’s aid it crushed him. He was glad he could help, but the sight always marred him. It felt like tidal waves were crashing up against his stomach. He felt useless and weak. It felt as if a rusting hook was dragging his heart down into the acid that lay at the base of his stomach. He felt like he was trying to find his way through the mountains with a map of the sea._

_He covered his mouth with his hand to prevent Haru from possibly hearing him. He tried to came himself down. He could cry at night, but right then, Haru needed him._

_He had to be strong._

_He needed to calm down._

_He took ten slow, deep breathes. In and out. In and out. In and out._

_As he slowly stood up he wiped his wet face with the end of his sleeve and made his way to the sink. He washed his face and took a deep breathe. As he looked out the window he saw the large green vines of the neighbour’s plant growing over the fence. The soft whistling of the wind pushed the tips of it against the glass of the window. The evening sun glowed into the kitchen. People would most likely have been heading home from work. Maybe a few people would be collecting dinner on their way. They would probably all sit around the dining table and talk about their day with each other._

_Maybe they were like Haru and Makoto, who for one reason or another, could not do that._

_It was okay though; they would sit with each other and have dinner. They would be each other’s family. They did not need anyone else to be their family._

Maybe one day _, Makoto thought,_ our family will grow, and we will have lots of people to have dinner with us. That’d be nice.

_After he washed his face he dried it on the nearby handtowel and walked over to the cupboard, in hopes of finding something Haru would eat. He knew Haru never had a large appetite after those moments though. Makoto found a small bag of bread and thought toast would be a good idea. As he placed the bread into the toaster he went to the fridge and found the margarine. He got a cup and plate down from the cupboards above the bench. He filled the cup with tap water. Once the toaster had popped he placed the toast on the plate and smeared it with margarine. It melted into the toast and softened it. As he turned around to go back to the toilet he noticed Haru slowly walking down the hallway, nervously holding his mutilated arm – it appeared as if his other arm was almost pulling it down._

_Makoto quickly placed the plate and cup down and ran over to Haru, just in case he fell. He was too nervous to touch him though._

_“Sorry, was I taking too long?” Makoto asked._

_Haru shook his head. “No . . . I just didn’t want to be in there anymore.”_

_“Would you like to sit in the lounge room then? I have your food ready.”_

_“Could – could we please sit outside?” Haru suggested. “If that’s okay?”_

_Makoto smiled. “Yes, yes of course we can. Do you need any help getting out there?”_

_“No,” Haru said. “I should be fine.”_

_“Okay, I’ll go and grab your food then.”_

_“Thank you, Makoto,” Haru replied, a smile of his own spreading across his face._

_Haru walked over to the sliding glass door and pushed it open. He walked over to the small patch of grass and sat down. The wind pushed through his hair. He zipped up his blue jacket and waited for Makoto._

_Makoto went back to the bench and grabbed the plate and water. Once he was outside he passed them over to Haru, who smiled and thanked him._

_Together, in silence, the two boys sat, listening to the sound of the wind blowing through the wind chimes. They listened to the people loudly talking down the street. They listened to the sound of birds. The grass was spiky yet soft against Makoto’s legs. When he turned over to see Haru his sense of time evaporated. He saw the curved and elongated bend of Haru’s soft neck as he bent forward to take a bite of the toast. He saw his long and bony fingers. He saw the smooth texture of his hair and face. He saw the way his Adam apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of water. He saw how small he truly was .He appeared so docile. So breakable. Yet Makoto knew how strong he was._

_Makoto had never seen anything more beautiful in his life._

_His friend was so beautiful. It felt like a travesty that his beauty had to be wasted on the cruel world that they lived in. A world that did not care for him._

_“Makoto?”_

_“Hmmm,” Makoto replied, looking at Haru in the eyes. His deep eyes._

_“I’m –I’m sorry I’m like this. I really don’t mean to be. I know that I’m really difficult to deal with and-”_

_“Haru . . . you’re not difficult. And I know you don’t mean to be like this,” Makoto said. He reached forward and grabbed Haru’s hand. He held it firmly and with care._

_“Makoto, I just – I just wanted to say thank you. I know I’m messed up, but you still care. So thank you,” Haru confessed, as he swallowed a lump in his throat._

_“Haru . . . of course I care. You’re my best friend. I love you. You know I’ll do anything for you, right?”_

_Haru softly nodded his head. The wind picked up and Makoto got a small whiff of Haru’s scent. Makoto moved himself closer to Haru and wrapped his arms around him. Haru rested his head against his shoulder. As he tilted his head into the nook of Makoto’s neck he inhaled. Makoto could feel his skin getting wet._

_He heard Haru sniffle._

_Makoto brought his hand up to the back of Haru’s head. Right under his hair line Makoto rubbed his thumb in little circles, his other fingers wrapping around to Haru’s cheek. His tears ran down Makoto’s fingers. As they stayed like that Makoto watched the pink and orange sky turn to one of greys and blackish hues. The street lights started to glow along the road and the flying of small bugs could be seen under them. The streets grew quite, and all Makoto could hear was the breathing of Haru – coupled with the blend of their two heartbeats. Makoto continued to rub small circles on Haru and waited for his crying to die and simmer down._

_He never liked to think about it too much, because it felt wrong and dirty to do so, but a small part of him felt good in those moments. Makoto felt like he mattered. He felt like he was special and meaningful. He felt like he was strong and caring._

_He felt as if, maybe, just maybe, he was irreplaceable._

_In the years to come he would learn that not to be true. It hurt even more when that happened. In the years to come he would learn he was not special. He was not meaningful, nor was he irreplaceable. At least, not in the eyes of Haru. Or anyone for that matter. He was merely a glorified bench warmer, whose only purpose was to soften Haru’s heart for the rest of the world._

_By the sounds of it, Haru had stopped crying, yet he still kept his head in the nook of Makoto’s neck. And Makoto let him stay there. He felt content._

_“Do you think I’ll be like this forever?” Haru mumbled. Makoto felt the tickle of his breath._

_“Like what?”_

_“Just –_ this _. . . this half-baked human that can’t handle his world.”_

_Makoto thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. I guess there’s no telling.”_

_Makoto could feel the fluttering of Haru closing his eyes. “I don’t want to be this way forever . . .” Haru admitted. “I miss the old Haru.”_

_“There’s no ‘old Haru’,” Makoto said. “There’s just Haru. There’s just you.”_

_“I feel like there are multiple Haru’s . . . yet they all find a way to fuck everything up.”_

_Makoto sighed. “Haru . . . you – you don’t do that. You’re trying. That’s all that matters.”_

_“Trying’s not good enough sometimes.”_

_Makoto squeezed Haru’s hand. “I mean, yeah,” He said. “Sometimes no matter how hard you try, or how badly you want something, it’ll never happen. That’s true. But trying means something. Trying means you still care, and if you still care, that’s all I’m worried about,” Makoto mumbled, as his eyes stared at the top of Haru’s head. “I don’t ever want you to stop caring. So, you can stumble and fall for the rest of your life, you can give up every-now-and-then, and if you stay the same, so be it. As long as you try, that’s all that matters in the end.”_

_Makoto felt Haru shutter._

_“. . . What do I do if I reach the point that I don’t want to try anymore?” Haru asked, his voice shaky._

_Makoto took in a deep breath. “T-then you tell me, and, well, I’ll try for you. I’ll carry you as far as you need me to.”_

_“You can’t save me, Makoto. People can’t just save other people. That’s not how life works.”_

_“I can try . . .” Makoto said, his words lost through his own tears._

_“Am I really worth the effort, Makoto?”_

_“Of course you are,” Makoto said, firmly. “I can see it in your body –and your eyes, your big beautiful eyes . . . I can see right into your deserving heart through them.”_

_Haru lightly chuckled. “Aren’t eyes supposed to be windows to the soul, not the heart?”_

_“I guess,” Makoto replied. “But I think your soul is a little lost at the moment. He has gone away for a while, because he is too scared to come home. But that’s okay, because I can still see your heart, and it’s beautiful. That’s all I need to see.”_

_Makoto could feel fresh tears leaking out of Haru’s eyes._

_He also felt the stretch of a smile split across Haru’s face._

***

He would have liked to have said it was not planned.

But, it _was_.

He would have liked to have said he did not think about it too much.

But, he _did_.

He would have liked to have said he had not manipulated the situation.

But, he _had_.

 

He woke up early that morning. The morning of emotional liberation. He stayed up late the night before cleaning his bedroom. He had a quick shower and got changed into a fresh set of clothes. He packed his backpack up with a water bottle and set out his morning as if he was planning on seeing the afternoon. He opened the blinds to his bedroom and the light shone through his empty fishbowl – the dirty spots and dust made even more apparent.

As he walked down the stairs his father and siblings were getting ready to leave.

“Bye!” His siblings called out as they left.

His father just left with an agitated and gruff look plastered over his aging face, and small sneer he thought Makoto would not see. He did.

Makoto looked around the house –going to the rooms and letting the images soak into his head - before sighing and placing his shoes on. He took a step out of the door and never felt more alive. He started walking down the road and made his way to the convenience store. The air smelt thick with morning dew and the clouds were dusted across the sky. They moved in a slow and anticipated motion. With every step he took he was hyper-aware of his surroundings and the world he was walking through. He felt like a mole that was experiencing the world for the first time. The streets were fairly quiet as he walked down them.

As he walked into the convenience store he acted as _normal_ as he possibly could. He acted out the part of living and life as best as he could. He made it appear as if it was a part of his routine. He grabbed a small packet of onigiri and smiled at the cashier as he left.

Everything felt normal and like it was how he lived his life. No one would know. Not until the very last second. The very last second.

As he walked along the road he felt freer and freer with each step. Each step felt lighter. Each step felt as if it was breaking him away from the pains of the past and the fatigue of the future. There was no past or future. There was just the present, and even it had begun to splinter away. In moments it even felt as if there was no world, that there was just him.

Just Makoto.

No emotions.

No pain.

No questions.

No uncertainties.

 _Just Makoto_.

As he walked up the hill he felt the burn and the strain of his legs. It had been the first time he had left the house in quite a while, and his body had grown too used to barely moving, that he was able to feel every step he took. Every step slipped through his muscles. He did not mind though, it was just proof of what he would soon loose. Of what he would cut away. For good. He was calm, he was at peace, and he had control. His emotions were not being dictated by the world or the people in. He was dictating them. He was in control. He had full power over the situation he wanted to unfold.

The train station was practically abandoned – as Makoto had planned it would have been. Parts of it where covered in rust. Rust that peeled up in flakes. White and curved metal fences were bent around the entire station. Yellow and brown weeds grew up and around them in all angles. The lines painted around the station were scatted and faded. They looked as if someone went around to each individual one and scuffed at it for half an hour with shoes made out of sand paper. There were uneven puddles dotted around the platform where the sky was pasted into them with a dirty tinge.

The only other person at the station, minus himself and the train station guard, was on old man sitting on the rickety wooden seat under the shelter. His head was tilted down and a large black hat sat on his head, dipping down over his eyes. His legs were extended out and crossed over each other. The way he was jostling and breathing made it appear as if he was floating in and out of sleep in an uneven state. His arms were wrapped around his chest in defensive position, and he would wiggle them ever so slightly whenever a gust of wind came along. He did not look like he was paying close attention, so Makoto did not mind him being there. The train guard most likely asleep in his box like most days.

No one came to that train station anymore. Not really. Barely any trains stopped there, and there was a newer and nicer train station around three minutes away. Most people went to that one. Makoto was glad that was how it was. It gave him leeway to do what he needed to do.

He stood just behind the yellow lines, as if he was waiting for the next train to come and take him away.

His hands were placed in the pockets of his jacket as the wind was spread like honey over his nose. His beanie flattened his hair down around his face, making his fringe cover his eyes in way that made seeing a tad more difficult.

And so he waited.

He waited.

He waited.

Until he heard the overhead speaker declare that the next train coming through would not stop at this station.

_The next train on platform one will not stop at this station._

_The next train on platform one will not stop at this station._

_The next train on platform one will not stop at this station._

Makoto could see it coming in the distance.

He saw the way it was being dragged along the tracks. He saw the way it titled, ever so slightly, from side to side. He could hear it. He could hear it softly screeching down the dirty, old tracks. The sound was getting louder. _Louder. Louder_. It was getting closer – closer –closer. He could see it. He could feel it. He felt the anticipation burst like a rotten fruit in his stomach.

He was ready. He felt so free and sure of himself. He would not have to do it anymore. He would not have to think or feel anything anymore. One step, one small little step, and he could live in the oblivion of his dreams for all eternity.

Makoto was ready. He was ready to be a free man.

His feet were in place. He started to move forward in a manner that was quick enough to get him where he needed to go when he needed to be there, but not quick enough that it was obvious what his intentions were.

He was ready.

He could feel it.

Just a few more steps.

Just a few more seconds – he saw it, he wished he had not. But, he saw it.

Through his peripheral vision he saw it.

A young girl – no older than six or so – running up the ramp to the train station. Her mother walking behind her. The young girl wore a teddy bear jumper and her hair bounced as she ran. She was looking right at Makoto and he could not move. He could not be responsible for what would have happened if he did. He wanted to move forward. More than anything he wanted to run forward onto the tracks, but that little girl was looking at him. That little girl would see everything. He could not do it. He could not do it.

_He could not do it with her watching._

As the train came whooshing past Makoto stumbled back and fell on his back. The hot gush of air from the train crashed over him like a tsunami. He shoved his face into his hands and cried. He did not care who saw him. His body wracked with emotions at an uncontrollable speed. He knew that the young girl, her mother and possibly the older man were staring at him uncomfortably. He knew. He could feel it. He did not care though. They had ridded him of his ticket to freedom, all because he cared about the impact. He did not care if they had to watch him cry with snot dribbling down his face.

The problem with having the whole event planned was, that if it did not follow through correctly, he was out of the mind-set he needed to be in. He was now forced to re-create the plan. He was now forced to greet tomorrow and be reacquainted with her. He never wanted to see her again. But he had to. He had no other option.

He did not have the strength to move forward. In life or off the station platform.

With shaking legs, and his eyes and nose still dribbling, Makoto walked down the ramp and out of the station. He did not know where he wanted to go, or where he could go, so he just walked. He let the streets and his lack of inhibitions guide him. He wanted to feel like he was drowning. He wanted to feel uncomfortable. He wanted to feel pain.

The chill of the air ran daggers through his legs and spine. He bumped into people as he walked. Some would scoff at him; others would walk away with a sneering glare of disapproval. The smells of food and people washed around him as he walked along the foot path near the beach and the parks. The world around him sounded muffled and soft, yet so aggressively loud and annoying at the same time. Everything was pumping and thumping around him. Nothing sounded coherent or clear, yet it all sounded like it was about him. He knew it was not. He knew he was but one large – no, small - no, large – dot in amongst everything, yet it still felt like all eyes and no eyes were on him. He did not know if he was supposed to hide or shine. He did not know what the world wanted from him. He needed answers, he needed clarity. Why would the universe make him feel like he was not welcome on Earth, if the very same universe would put actions in place to bind him to the dirt he was so repeatedly pushed down into? What was he missing? What did he not know?

Why would the world just not let him go?

He made a turn down the grass hill and walked into the main section of the town, where most of the shops and restaurants were. More people were out then he thought. He stood taller than all of them.

Makoto though that maybe, if he could have a taste of the past, he might be able to withstand tomorrow. He might be able to sleep through it until he could come up with a new plan.

He walked down the small alley ways and turned a few corners before he was greeted with the large open section of the district.

Grey clouds clogged the sky and the wind continued to blow profusely. His lips felt rough and chapped. Yet he still looked for that piece of the past.

He looked for the bright blue windows.

Makoto had not been to that restaurant in years. It was a family restaurant. It was only small, but it felt like content bliss in Makoto’s memories. He could never remember all the times he went there, and many of the memories smudged together. But he knew he was happy there. He used to go a lot with Haru, Rei, Nagisa and Rin. He was pretty sure Sousuke may have gone a few times as well.

He needed to find it – yet he was still carrying the moss covered boulders of his pain.

He trudged around, eyes wide and ready to jump once he found it.

He needed it.

He needed _something_.

It felt as if his mind was being sucked through a hole to another world. He wanted to join it, yet he was shackled to the dark abyss of his life and his world.

He saw it. Off to the side. With bright yellow lights leaking out from the inside. The vibrant blue windows still so clear and still so real. He walked over as quickly as he could. He would go in there and eat their food and he would forget. He would forget about the hate and the pain and the longing to belong. To somewhere and someone.

Makoto weaved his way through the groups of people. Through the faces that he would forget. Just as they would forget his.

Once he stood outside he stopped. He could not move forward.

Sitting in the little booth near the front window was a group of six friends.

It was the same booth Makoto had in his memories. He always used to sit in that booth with his friends. It was _their_ booth.

They would talk while sitting in those chairs and eating that food. They all used to know each other then. Sometimes, they would know things without anyone having to tell them. They would hold smiles of a genuine nature. They loved and cared about each other.

They knew each other.

None of them knew Makoto anymore.

In that moment, he was standing by himself, in both heart and soul.

Maybe Rin and Haru were out training togther. Maybe Sousuke was at his home, eating a warm dish of food while he edited. Maybe Rin, Haru and Sousuke were all together. Maybe they were sitting on a lounge talking of life, talking about loving, talking about achievements and failures. Maybe they were laughing. Maybe they felt loved. Maybe Rei and Nagisa were at work, waiting to come home to see each other. Maybe they were already home. Maybe they were making love.

Maybe all of his _friends_ were happy.

Maybe they were living their lives.

None of them knew he was there. None of them knew what his plans for that day were. Was that his fault for not telling them, or their fault for not asking? Was any of it anyone’s fault?

Maybe Makoto was just destined to be alone. Maybe he was never meant to have friends. Maybe he got them out of a mistake made somewhere along the way.

He was not sitting in that booth with his friends, where it was warm and full of love. He was standing in the blue of the outside. He was being pushed and shoved by other people. His heart was beating a beat that was not his own. He was just going through the motions. No one was going through it with him.

Was it his fault? Had he made too many mistakes? Had he fallen too many times? Or, was he the victim?

He did not know. He never knew.

He wanted to look away, but he could not help staring at the window and seeing the life of his that could have been. The life he once held onto by a string of golden thread. He felt as if he walked away he was truly giving up. He felt as if he would finally be allowing himself to admit what he would never have.

It frightened him. He never knew what he was meant to feel or what he was meant to do. He was tired of trying to make the right decisions and being told he was wrong. The universe never let him choose anything. He was but a puppet of pain.

He finally convinced himself to walk away.

Slowly he turned around and headed to the only place he knew would be, for the most part, unchanged. He went to the place manifested with the memories of Haru.

As he walked along he kept his head down and avidly avoided eye contact with people. He knew as soon as he saw someone he would pop and be unable to stop the tears from flowing. He just had to make it to one location and then he could crack. Then he could combust.

He did not notice the pain in his legs, or in his stomach. The pain in his heart spread like a dieses through his entire body. It possessed him and controlled him. Nothing else would register in his mind.

He continued to walk.

He continued to walk.

He shoved his hands further and further into his pockets and continued to move as quickly as he could.

After around twenty minutes of walking he found the hill he was looking for.

As he walked down it he saw the lake.

The lake of his childhood and dreams.

With each step closer he got, the more tears fell down his face. His face was flushed like a rash and clear snot was dribbling out of his nose and pooling around the top of his lips. Once he made lake’s edge he threw his bag off of his back and slammed himself down onto the ground. His cries sounded like someone was kicking him in the gut. His whole body shook with them. Sweat had accumulated around his forehead and caused his hair to stick to it. He was so confused. He did not know what he was meant to do: so he cried.

He knew how to cry. At that point it felt as if it was the only thing his body was built for. So he cried, he cried and he cried. His throat felt sticky and small. He could not breathe through his nose at all at that point. All he could do was take long, deep and irregular breaths through his mouth. Large amounts of saliva crashed out of his mouth like a dam that had been smashed open. It dribbles and stuck to the sleeves of his jumper.

One moment he felt alone and abandoned, by even himself.

The next, he saw someone sit down next to him.

He wanted to stop crying to get a better look at them, to hide his shame. But he could not. So he just continued to cry for what felt like hours, though it was probably only one. Yet still, that person did not leave. They continued to sit there and wait for him to stop.

His crying had eventually diluted to small hiccups and sharp inhales.

“You alright now, son?” The voice asked. It was thick and gravelly sounding, yet it unmistakably kind as well.

Makoto turned his head to the side. “Y-yes, sir, thank you . . . I’m sorry you had to see that.” As he looked at him the eyes he could not help but see something familiar.

“I’m glad to hear it,” He said, with a smile. “I was meaning to talk to you when I saw you at the station, but then you kept going all over the place,” He laughed. “And my body’s not what it once was, that’s for sure.”

“The train station?” Makoto questioned, before realizing he was the old man he saw sitting down at the station. “Oh, oh right. I’m sorry, for that . . .”

The man clapped his large bear like hand on Makoto’s shoulder. “No need to apologise, son. I’ve been wanting to see you again for some time now. Under nicer circumstances would have been better, but seeing you now is more appropriate I suppose.”

Makoto let out a small hiccupped cry. “W-what?”

The man smiled. “It’s alright; I don’t suppose you’d remember. A while ago now, I was living on a footpath near an old convenience store. I’d been there for a good year or so. I moved around a little bit, but that’s where I would end back up,” He explained. “Then one day, I see this _very_ tall man come and kneel down to my low level, and he gave me food and water to drink. He was a very kind man. He didn’t even seem offended when I did not say thank you. He looked as if he understood. I wanted to say thank you though, I was just so overwhelmed with emotions I couldn’t do it. I’ve been looking for him for a while now, because I so desperately wanted to say thank you, because I had not been shown kindness like that in many years. So, can you imagine how shocked I was when today, the gloomy day that is was, I would happen to find that very man at the train station, about to do something I never thought I would be someone to bear witness to?” He asked, though his voice was still kind and felt as if it was lathered in nuts and honey. “The relief I felt when he stopped, is one I cannot explain, because kind people most certainly don’t deserve what I knew he was going to do.”

Makoto could feel the tears tearing down his eyes once again. “Oh _god_ ,” He bellowed. “Oh god, I didn’t – I mean, I – I don’t, I’m sorry . . .” His body had begun to shake again. He felt so dirty and so broken. He had stopped for the little girl; he had stopped because he did not want to hurt her. He did not think if it would have hurt the old man. He did not care. He felt like such a monster.

That old man was someone from his past. Someone he did not even remember. Yet had almost done something so selfish in front of him. That man wanted to do nothing other than thank Makoto for a deed he did not even remember doing, and he had almost done _that_ in front of him.

“I-I-I’m so sorry, you must think I’m awful,” Makoto conceded. His voice was soft and broken. “You have to live on the streets, and here I am, complaining about god knows what . . .”

The man shook his head. “You know, I used to run a big company. I was very important and very rich. I lived a life of luxury, but I had problems, in here,” He said, tapping his heart and head. “I’d run away from home when I was younger, you see, but I worked very hard in life. And I made it. I did it all on my own, I had lots of money and many people thought I was important. However, I got this while being in that state,” The man said. He pulled up the sleeves on his shirt and Makoto saw a long, deep and white scar that ran right down the man’s arm. “Everyone has their reasons . . . Once I lost everything I had enough money for about two weeks’ worth of food, and a train ticket. I had tried to apply to other places, but I never got any of the jobs, and then I lost all energy to even try. I didn’t care anymore. So I came back to my home town. I don’t know why, but I did. I’d planned on going back home, where my older sister and mother still lived,” He laughed. “But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it! I didn’t want to face them. So, I was homeless. I started living on the streets,” He said. Makoto kept his eyes on him, intently. “I saw a lot of people over the years. A few even gave me money and stuff. None of them ever actually looked me in the eyes though. I know they just used me as a way to feel like they had done something good for the day – that is until I meet you. You didn’t look down at me the way the others did. You came down to me, and smiled at me, and you didn’t need or expect anything from me. You helped me to remember there is goodness in the world. Around two weeks after that, I actually went back to my old house, the one with my mother and sister,” He said.

Makoto nodded, eagerly awaiting what else he had to say.

“And they cried and hugged me,” The old man smiled. “I had a place to go back to. I was so scared of returning in the state I was in. But meeting you gave me the push I needed. I know I am a fortunate one; there are others out there that don’t even have the option I did. But I’m still so thankful that I meet you, because I have a home once again, so thank you . . . ?’’

“ . . . M-makoto,” He mumbled.

“Makoto,” The old man repeated. “Thank you, Makoto. I’m Yoshimoto, by the way,” He said, extending his hand.

Makoto shook it, though his body was still softly shaking.

“As a proper thank you, would you let me help you?” He asked, his eyes sincere.

“T-thank you . . . for the offer, but I don’t even really know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I’ve ended up the way I have. I don’t know how to get better,” Makoto confessed.

“You probably think that ‘getting better’ means being an amazing person though, don’t you?”

Makoto shrugged, though Yoshimoto could sense that he was partially agreeing with him.

“Getting better isn’t about being extraordinary,” Yoshimoto said. “Living isn’t about how vibrant you become. That’s not what life is about. In order to get better, you must accept. Life and living and dying, it’s all about acceptance. This whole universe is built upon acceptance. And the first step you need to take is accepting you are nothing. You need to accept you are worthless. The world beats you down by making you think you are important. You give it the power. You give it your hopes and aspirations. If the world does not have those, it has nothing over you, and you’ll have won.”

Makoto’s eyes were wide. “B-but I have to work hard so I can fit into this world. I don’t need to be special; I just want to be accepted.”

“All acceptance is special in a way though. It means we have been chosen. Who doesn’t want to be chosen? To be someone’s number one? I’m not saying you will be able to accept all of those things, I can’t even accept them, they’re hard things to accept. But if you try to, the world can’t get you anymore,” Yoshimoto said. “And besides, there is a fine line between success and failure – I stepped too far. You need to work hard in life to get to where you want, but I worked too hard and ruined a lot of my chances. Always working hard is not a good thing. You start to become an artificial person when you do that,” He explained.

“B-but I have to work hard. I’m so far behind compared to everyone else. I-if I don’t work hard they’ll leave me behind.”

“Where are they now then?”

“What?” Makoto asked.

“Where are they? Are they still with you, or have they already left you behind?”

Makoto froze. Had they already left him behind? He felt abandoned, he felt broken, but did that mean he had been truly left behind? “I . . . I don’t know . . .”

Yoshimoto hummed. “Makoto, I think you find solace in becoming other people’s ideas. Problem is, everyone’s gonna have a different idea over who you should be. You can’t become everyone’s ‘ideal’ Makoto. People are going to leave you behind no matter how hard you work – it’s just how this shit world operates.”

“You know, I always used to think ‘do I really know enough about life to have an opinion on it?’ but it never got me anywhere. My struggles never came from who I was; they came from who I wasn’t. I tried so hard to be the person everyone wanted me to be. But it didn’t always match up. Because they all told me they wanted one thing, but I could see they wanted another,” Makoto explained. “It’s like, e-everyone is walking through along this thin sheet of ice, but I’ve already fallen through into the water. Into the ocean; and I can see them all. I know where they are going, and where their ice will crack. But . . . I-I talk myself out of it, or I purposefully . . . purposefully ignore, because I just want to be with them. I don’t want to be walked on or beneath them. So I pretend I’m equal to them, even when I-I’m not,” Makoto cried, his voice growing thick and dry.

Yoshimoto rubbed his hand on Makoto’s back. “You know, some people can go through their whole life without knowing who they really are. I don’t know if I pity them or envy them,” He said. “But you know what; I think you’re doing alright. It’s a heavy burden to bear, but I think you’ll be alright.”

Makoto continued to cry, though it was softer and less harsh then it once was. “I don’t know . . . I never thought I would turn out t-this way.”

“No one ever does,” Yoshimoto chuckled.

“It’s funny, if someone achieves something in their youth it is seen as extraordinary, but as you become an adult it merely becomes and expectation. I wasn’t ready for that. That was something I never got used to. I’m still not used to it.”

“Yeah, neither am I, if I’m being honest,” Yoshimoto smiled.

Makoto turned his head over and looked at Yoshimoto in the eyes.

His eyes looked like melted honey. They looked as though they were sweet prisons for destructions of the world. His eyes still looked kind though, even if a bit dulled in the low light of the clouded day.

His mouth was cracked and dry, lifting and dipping at odd ends. The texture of a long forgotten river bed. Yet it did not seem odd on his face. No. Not on his face. It seemed just right. Just like it was supposed to. The crinkles and wrinkles up around his eyes gave him an odd atmosphere of youth. They were a sign of his aging life; yet they held a cheeky boyish charm that demanded to be recognised. To be remembered.

His hair was nothing ordinary. Nothing you would not expect. Yet, for some reason, it just added to his charm. Like new autumn leaves covered in morning dew, his hair thickly yet softly was lathered over the top of his head. It seemed like the type of hair that would have once been played with and brushed by a lover in his adolescent years.

He was the type of man that seeped into the background, but once you pulled him out he shone and spilled open.

Makoto turned his head back out to the lake. His eyes soaking up the land he used to come to as a boy. Both by himself and with Haru.

“Do you have a pen and paper, Makoto?” Yoshimoto asked.

Makoto pulled up his bag and rummaged through it before he found a chewed red pen and   scrap piece of paper. He handed it over. Yoshimoto took it and scribbled something over it.

“This,” Yoshimoto said. “Is the phone number and address of a psychologist I see. She’s very very good. I know you want to deal with this on your own, but you’ll only be running in circles if you don’t get good guidance, Makoto. Trust me, I’m old, I’ve picked up on a few things in my life.”

“T-thank you very much, Yoshimoto,” Makoto whispered. He wiped away a few loose tears that had started to peak their heads out. “I have some, um, food in my bag . . . if you’d like to have some.”

“Oh! – Don’t mind if I do,” Yoshimoto smiled. He dug into Makoto’s bag and grabbed two of the onigiris. He opened them both up and started biting into one. He handed the other one to Makoto.

Together, the two strangers whose lives had been tied together, sat under the grey of the sky slowly eating their food. Maybe, they would get to see the sun shine through the cracks of the moving clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'M SORRY! I know so many of you wanted the secret person to be Kisumi. I'm sorry. <3 
> 
> I bet most of you had forgotten about the old man, but I had always planned on bringing him back. Mwahahahhaha >:D
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! It really means a lot. 
> 
> I hope you all have an absolutely wonderful day! :) <3


	10. Forever Is A Place We Long To Go To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares can reveal the sides of dreams that are overlooked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello everyone! I am so sorry for the delayed release of this chapter, but thank you all so much for waiting so kindly! :) <3  
> I believe this was my most challenging chapter to write, believe it or not. The pacing was just really hard for me to get right, since I wanted it to be simultaneously slow and fast. Even after taking as long as I did to finish this chapter, I don't know how well I achieved that, ahaha. I also wanted a realistic yet fantastical feel, if that makes any sense. I think I was just trying to do much in it, so it took me waaay loner then I originally planned to get it down. So really, thank you all so much for waiting! Your kindness and support means the world to me! I hope you enjoy this chapter and please make sure to read the trigger warning list below. :) 
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS of mental, physical and psychological ABUSE.  
> \- Acephobic thoughts and actions/ Depicting asexuals as ''not human''  
> \- Feelings of abandonment due to sexuality and mental illnesses  
> \- Somewhat graphic sexual scenes  
> \- Depressive episode aftereffects
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, but merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both externally and internally.

He woke up on the beach naked.

The sand was rough and cold beneath his skin. Dry clumps of it slide of his body as he sat up. His eyes were still hazy as he opened them. The world around him appeared smudged and blurred. He blinked a few times to clear his sight. As he looked out at the sun rising over the ocean he saw it was a horrible dark green.

Makoto looked around the beach, yet he saw no one. He was alone.

 _All alone_.

As he stood up his legs shook and bent in an unstable manner.

He walked along the beach in hopes of finding something. Something. Anything. The sand sucked and clumped around his legs like quick sand. The further he walked the stronger it became. With each step he would sink down to his knees. Each of his movements demanded all of his strength and will power. The sun continued to rise higher and higher in the sky. With each inch it moved up it turned a deeper shade of red.

Makoto continued to walk.

As he kludged his way through the liquidising sand he saw a black figure in the distance.

Coming towards him.

With speed.

With _anger._

Makoto tried to move around yet his legs were someone cemented in place. The sand was soft and his hands moved through it freely, yet his legs were stuck.

The figure continued to move closer to him. Makoto tried to get a way. He twisted and strained his body, but to no avail. He was stuck.

“Makoto!” The figure screeched.

Makoto’s eyes were wide. He could feel himself shaking. He yanked and pulled his body with a ferocious fire. He pulled so hard. He had to move. He had to get out of the way.

“Makoto!” It screeched again.

As he turned his head again the black figure came to a swift halt in front of him. A large gust of wind swirled around the both of them. Sending sand up against his face and tousling his hair. Once the sand had fallen Makoto opened his eyes. Slowly. Hesitantly.

The face that greeted him was one he knew well.

It was the face of his past and his forgotten future.

It was the face of his being and his dreams.

It was the face of his beloved, beloved, friend.

It was the face of Haru.

_His Haru._

Although he knew that face well – how could he not? – there was something foreign and pulverising about it. It held no emotional resemblance to the Haru he knew. He _knew_ it was Haru, but he also knew it was not Haru.

Nonetheless, his heart swelled and wept at the sight.

There was a rigid and coarse anger sketched into Haru’s face. One of revenge and bloodlust.

“Makoto!” Haru yelled. His eyes were burning holes into Makoto’s soul. Black tar dribbled from his mouth and was spat through the air as he spoke with a malicious tone. “You did this to me! You did this to me! _You did this to me!_ ”

“Haru . . .” He whispered back.

His black hair, _his soft and silkily black hair_ , floated up around his head as he continued to sneer at Makoto.

“Have you nothing to say?” Haru spat. His voice sounded as if he was talking through a fish bowl. Gravely and broken. “Have you nothing to say, you rotten pig? You did this to me! You did this to me! _You did this to me!_ ”

“Stop!” Makoto cried. “Please, please stop!”

Haru brought his hand up to Makoto’s face. His finger nails were chipped and broken. He traced his fingers along the side of Makoto’s cheek. Makoto was too stunned and shaking too profusely to resist. Haru’s face had seemed to mellow, yet his eyes were still filled with a rage unfamiliar to Makoto. He brought his face closer and pushed his lips against Makoto’s left ear. “You broke me, Makoto. You broke me,” Haru whispered. The tone sounded like a nursery rhyme to Makoto. His body continued to shake.

Haru brought both of his hands around Makoto’s head and pushed his hair back. He pushed his thumbs into Makoto’s forehead. Tilting his head back.

“You always looked so young,” Haru murmured, his eyes focused. “You were always there. Then you weren’t. You weren’t Makoto anymore. I always thought you were a changeling or something. You just changed, yet you still looked _so_ young,” Haru dragged his pinkies over Makoto’s eyebrows. “So young – so strong – so _breakable_ ,” He muttered.

As Haru let go of Makoto’s face his hair fell back down. His throat felt small. He could feel thousands of tiny words trying to break out of his mouth, yet not a single one could make it through. They all shrivelled and turned to dust. His mouth tasted of chalk and lost chances.

“You . . . you are something, Makoto,” Haru said. “I hate you, I hate you so much, yet I want to be with you. Why? How have you corrupted me so much? Why do I feel bad for you?” Haru brought his hands up and placed them on Makoto’s shoulders. “You were always there, and then one day you weren’t. You weren’t Makoto anymore. Why did you break yourself? Why did you leave me, Makoto? Why did you do this to me?”

Makoto said nothing. His mouth still felt dry. His heart felt as if it was hanging out of his chest and getting sand clogged in it.

“Makoto . . . answer me. Why?”

Makoto remained quiet.

“ _Makoto!_ ”

Makoto swallowed a lump in his throat. Tears welled in his eyes. He did not like anything that was happening. He wanted to get away, but he was stuck. Forever and always he was stuck in the grip of Haru.

“ _Answer me!_ ” Haru commanded. “Answer me right now! Why did you do this to me? Why? Why do - w-why do you hate me?”

Makoto bit his lip. “ . . . I-I don’t hate you, Haru. I could never hate you . . . never you. Never.”

“ _You did this to me,_ ” he growled. “You broke me!”

Before Makoto could respond Haru floated back and stripped of the brown cloak he was wearing. His muscly yet also wiry pale body was exposed. The cloak was dropped to the ground and swallowed up by the waves of sand lapping around Makoto.

“ _You_ did this,” Haru said as he turned around. Once Haru’s back was to him, the site that Makoto saw made him vomit. It sprayed out of him and drizzled down his throat and dripped into the sand. He was scared to look up again. Yet, with the energy Haru had been admitting, he was more scared not to follow the directions of him.

He looked up again and he saw a giant black hole punched in Haru’s back. Yellow puss stuck to the edges and dried blood was crack along the sides. He could see his ribs. He could see Haru’s lungs and heart slowly _pumping_. Barely.

Haru turned back around swiftly and his face was right in front of Makoto once again.

“You did that, Makoto!” Haru moaned. “ _You!_ ”

“N-no . . . _no_ , I’d never do that. I’d _never_ do that to you, Haru. Never.”

Haru grabbed Makoto’s face. His nails dug into the skin. “You. Did. This.”

“ _No!_ ” Makoto protested. “I didn’t!”

Haru ran his fingers over Makoto’s eyes as his body deflated. “You always had such pretty eyes, Makoto . . . such pretty, pretty eyes. I always wanted to see them again, did you know that? I’ve wanted to see them for so long. Even after all you did to me; I wanted to see your eyes again. Your pretty eyes,” Haru continued to softly dust his fingers over them. His thumb collected any tears that broke free. “Why did you do it? Why, Makoto? You always used to tell me how much you loved me . . . how special I was. So why? Why’d you do it? Hmmm?”

With a shaky grip, Makoto brought his hand up to his own face and cupped Haru’s hands. They felt warm.

They felt like home.

“What did I do, Haru?” Makoto whispered.

“You broke me . . .” Haru whispered in return. His voice thick. It ran through the air like a baby mouse.

“H-how did I break you, Haru?” Makoto asked, as his voice was swallowed by the air. “Can you tell me? Please?”

Haru moved forward and pushed his forehand onto Makoto’s. Makoto leaned into it. They both closed their eyes and took in a deep breath. Makoto could still feel Haru’s warm hands in this grip of his own, and on his face.

“You put me up too high, Makoto. You put me up too high, even when I was afraid of heights. You put me up so high. I never even put myself that high,” Haru said. “At first I liked being so high . . . I felt so powerful. So _strong_. But I got scared, Makoto. You started to walk away, you weren’t there anymore. But you still left me up there. You still left me so high, even as you walked down lower and lower. It was so lonely up there. I didn’t want to be up there anymore. So I tried to get down myself. I tried to climb down. I wasn’t scared of falling. I knew you’d catch me if I fell. I knew you would. But, when I did fall, I just kept falling. It _hurt_ , Makoto, I really hurt myself. When I got to the bottom I saw you just lying there. All hurt. But it was your fault – you left me up there. I never asked to be left up that high, Makoto,” Haru cried.

Makoto opened his eyes and saw Haru looking at him. His eyes were rimmed red. Hesitantly, Makoto brought his hand up to Haru face. He dragged his fingers down Haru’s jawline and rubbed his thumb on his chin. He could feel Haru’s breath sticking to his lips.

“W-where did I leave you, Haru?” Makoto asked.

Haru lifted his arm and pointed behind Makoto. Still holding Haru as well as he could, Makoto shifted his body and turned his head. In the near distance, up on a little poppy filled hill, there was a broken and shattered pedestal. It was covered in flaking gold. The waves of the ocean crashed up against it. Even in its broken state, it looked very tall. He could not imagine how scary it would have been to be the sole person on the top of that pedestal. And how much it would have hurt to try and climb down from that pedestal.

“I put you up there?” Makoto asked, turning his head back to Haru.

Haru nodded his head.

“Were you there for a long time?”

Haru nodded his head.

“Was it hard being so high on that pedestal?”

Haru nodded his head.

“Do you ever go back there?”

Haru hesitated. “I always want to go back there. Every day. I sit at the bottom of it sometimes. Other days I try to climb it again, but I never get very far. But, I don’t like being there, Makoto . . .”

Makoto brought Haru into a hug. Like he always did, Haru’s head sat in the nook of Makoto’s neck. “I’m sorry, Haru . . . I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I put you there. I’m sorry.”

He felt Haru shudder.

Makoto ran his fingers through Haru’s hair.

Once Haru pulled away he ran his hands over Makoto’s arms. He lifted his arms rubbed his thumb over Makoto’s nose and under his eyes. “You really are so pretty, Makoto . . . so very pretty.”

Haru leaned forward so his nose was pressed against Makoto’s. “Do you think our love would have made it in another world?” He queried.

“Hasn’t it already made it?”

“Has it, Makoto?”

“I think it has . . .”

“We’re both very hurt people, Makoto. I don’t know. I do know that your love is precious to me, I’m just sad that’s not equal. It never seems to be equal.”

“Is love ever truly equal? I think our love has made it. I still love you, I’ll always love you.”

“Even as just a friend?” Haru mumbled.

“Your love is not something I want to restrict. Being someone’s friend is not coming in second place.”

Haru’s eyes grew wide. He leaned in closer to Makoto. “You utterly wreck my heart, Makoto.”

“I’m sorry . . .”

Haru shook his head. “Your love is not something I want to restrict either. I miss your unrequited and full love, Makoto.”

Haru softly wrapped his hands around Makoto’s face. He brought it closer. In matter of seconds Makoto’s lips were locked with Haru’s. At first Makoto was too stunned to do anything. That small action was one that had plagued his mind for years. It was one he never thought would happen. Not wanting it to escape him though, he waded through his disbelief and leaned into it with all he had. He tentatively placed his hands through Haru’s hair to the back of his neck. He could taste and feel Haru in a way that exposed him to a new world. Haru’s lips were soft and slippery.

He wanted that moment to last forever. He wanted to live in an endless loop of that moment of peace. As it trailed on further though, he felt Haru’s hands move to his chest. He felt Haru’s fingers spread across him. He mirrored the action.

The heat of their chests rubbed into Makoto. His face felt warm. His chest felt warm. Yet, his fingers felt cold. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with his fingers. He had no idea where he was supposed to place his hands. So he moved them around as much as he could. He tried to touch and to feel Haru as much as he could. He never wanted it to end, yet he also wanted to see where it would lead. What their future would look like. What it could look like. What he wanted it to look like. What Haru wanted it to look like.

Makoto wanted to know it all.

He wanted to feel it all.

Their lips separated slightly and Haru opened his eyes. Makoto could see himself reflected in them. He saw his future and his past. He saw all he wanted to be. He saw nothing.

They were both slightly panting, their breaths blending together.

Haru softly smiled at him and dragged his thumb over Makoto’s upper lip. He leaned in again and re-captured Makoto’s heart. Makoto moved his body in same beat and tone as Haru. He tried as hard as he could to emulate Haru.

Slowly Haru’s hands began to slither up Makoto’s chest to his throat. He paid no mind to it and continued to kiss Haru. Before Makoto could prepare himself Haru’s hands were starting to wrap around his throat.

Though his lips were still locked onto Makoto’s, Haru began crying. His tears spilled over his eyes and mixed into the cavern of their lips. His grip around Makoto’s throat tightened ever further. His fingers curled around and dug into the soft skin. Makoto could feel his skin reddening from the harsh touch. He wanted to pull away, yet he wanted to stay as he was even more. He felt a though he was home. He felt as though he found some happiness and peace. He did not want to walk away from that. He did not want to push himself from Haru.

He did not want to lose Haru.

Not again.

The grip around his throat grew _tighter, tighter, tighter_. He could feel the breath in his throat dry and flicker out of him. Saliva pooled in the back of his throat and spilled up his tongue.

Makoto slid his hands up Haru. He felt the lump of his Adam’s apple bob over his knuckles. He placed his hands, softly, around Haru’s neck also. He felt the pulse of Haru beat and pump over his shaking hands.

As Haru squeezed him tighter, he squeezed Haru tighter. He felt the air drain from his mouth. He could still feel the tears of Haru leaking into the cracks of their bodies. Makoto kept his grip firm around Haru’s neck, just as Haru did to him.

His grip slightly faltered as he heard a gurgled and strained noise. A grasping noise. He slowly opened his eyes, as he did, he saw Haru glaring at him. He squeezed harder. The gurgling noise returned.

Makoto opened his eyes fully, squeezing as hard as he could. Yet, he saw Haru’s hands rested at his side. He squeezed harder. The noise got louder.

Makoto looked down and noticed his own arms were angrily and tightly wrapping and squeezing against his own throat. Bruising it. Corrupting it. His own tears started to form as he grip tightened in a wave of confusion.

Makoto fell into pit of uncertainty. Was this how things were always destined to be? This chasing game? This endless cycle of pain and longing? He wanted to know why things could not just be easy – why they could not just be simple. The world and all of its people were hooked on playing these _games_. Nothing could ever be black and white. The world was forced to walk through the abyss of greys and blues and purples. Dragging with them all of their flaws, fault and desires. The world would take those as tokens and currency. Happiness was not allowed unless one had suffered. But, they had to suffer the right way. They had to suffer in a beautiful and poetic way, if they could not do that, they would continue to fall and suffer in the polluted way they already were.

The sand of his desperation slithered over his dripping body. Swallowing his mind into stardust. Burning any flowers that grew too close. He could feel the roots of retribution spread through his entire body. His entire being. They hooked to the ground and tied him to hell. He was tied to hell yet his heart dangled from the clouds. Everything and nothing grew in the limbo between. His heart wailed and waned for some clarity. For some explanation.

For some reassurance.

_He squeezed harder._

His heart was racing so fast the beat almost sounded like a soliloquy proclaiming the depths of his thoughts and soul.

The feeling of something small touched his elbow.

Makoto slowly moved his head down and saw a young, little Makoto looking back up at him. His hands slowly let go of his throat as he continued to look down. The young Makoto continued to look up at him. Their eyes were locked. Makoto was in shock, but he could also feel many of his other emotions draining through the gutter in his mind. The young Makoto, with his hair neat and skin soft, slowly and cautiously walked in front of Makoto to where Haru was still aimlessly floating. His little arms reached up to Haru and dragged his floating body down. Makoto tried to reach forward and stop it, to try and pull Haru back towards himself. Young Makoto just shook his head and placed Haru in his arms.

He looked so small. Yet so strong and proud. Makoto could see this tiny and small version of himself holding and carrying this large and fully grown Haru in his arms as if he weighed of nothing but a forgotten sea shell at the bottom of a bucket. The young Makoto took long strides across the sand down towards the mouth of the crying sea. Of the whimpering distance of uncertainty. As his feet stepped into the sea and the water that chewed at his ankles, a small footpath started appearing in front of the young Makoto. It spread to bleed out further into the sea and to the horizon.

“Haru!” Makoto called out. “Please don’t leave me!” He tried to twist and strain against the sand but to no avail. “Please! _Please_ , don’t take him away from me! Not my Haru . . . please. I – I need him,” Makoto bellowed out to the wind. The young Makoto turned around and gave Makoto a small smile of sympathy, before he continued walking along the path across the sea. With each step he took, Makoto could see, the young Makoto grew a little taller, a little older. Haru simultaneously grew smaller and younger.

Makoto blinked.

When his eyes reopened he saw a third person on the pathway. A person with bright red hair.

He saw Rin.

As Rin walked in pace with the _young_ Makoto he started to pat Haru’s head.

Makoto wanted to join them.

He wanted to be with them. They looked so happy. They looked so loved. He tried further to release himself. He dug his hands in the sand and pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled.

He could no break free.

He looked up at them again. They looked like shadows that had melted into the sun.

“Please don’t leave me,” Makoto whispered to himself.

He gave one last futile tug.

He blinked.

Once he opened his eyes he saw nothing but darkness.

He was falling down a hole.

Makoto opened his eyes. The light of the room blinded him momentarily. Once he could see clearly he noticed he was sitting in an old and rotting classroom. Chalk dust filled the air and wandered through the rays of the sunlight that shown through the dirty glass windows. Stained with the fingerprints of bored students. He was wearing a white school uniform that stuck to his body. Small beads of sweat ran down his head and dropped onto the wonky wooden table he noticed he was tied to. The wooden table with messages carved and roughly scratched into it.

_Who does he think he is?_

_Fuck bag!_

_He can just go fucking die!_

_Why does Haru love him?_

_Makoto is a failure._

He heard the door open and looked up. Two men walked in. Two men he knew very well.

“He finally came~” One of them said.

“He kept us waiting long enough,” The other replied.

“Of course he did, this is Makoto we are talking about here,” The short one snickered.

The room grew darker with each step they took closer towards him. He pulled against the handcuffs that strapped him down. He tugged and pulled so hard that he broke the skin around his wrists. He could feel his warm blood roll down his hands down to the tips of his fingers. His blood slowly _plopped_ onto the ground. As he readjusted himself he felt a large hand press down onto his head.

Makoto’s head was smashed down onto the desk. The wood splintered with impact. He could feel a purple bruise sprouting across face. Every time he tried to push himself up he was greeted with more pressure.

He let out a long and painful breath.

The words of hatred that littered the table were being rubbed against his sensitive skin.

“How does it feel, Makoto?” Rei asked. His voice was filled with anguish. “How does it feel to be pushed down, for once in your life?”

“W-wei, slop,” Makoto mumbled as his face got pushed further into the table.

He felt a sharp pain in his side. He felt like someone had kicked him. Just as he was losing his final breaths Rei pulled his head up. Rei’s fingers were tightly pulled around Makoto’s hair. He opened his eyes a little bit. His neck was red and flushed. It moved in large motions as he panted. Rei pulled his head back further until he was looking at the ceiling.

Makoto felt the table in front of him move. Suddenly he was being pushed forward. With no table to stop his fall. He crashed into the cold ground. The chair he was tied to fell with him and crashed into his knees.

He panted and groaned.

A shoe came crashing into his face. In three strong hits. Tears were pushed out of his eyes.

“How does it feel, Makoto?” Nagisa asked, as he bent down so his face was even with Makoto’s. “How does it feel to be treated like a second place person?”

“I-I’m sorry,” Makoto.

Rei and Nagisa laughed.

“Sorry?” Nagisa laughed. “Oh, isn’t that rich? What are you sorry for, Makoto?”

Makoto closed his eyes. His body strained. “I don’t know . . . but I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

Nagisa kicked his chair to the side. Makoto went with it. He felt his body being lifted up and his chair was stable on the ground once again. Nagisa pulled his face back.

The face Makoto saw was not one he ever thought he would have seen on Nagisa. No. Never on Nagisa. It was harsh and rough. His eyes looked like a drained dam. His hair was stiff and his face was chiselled with anger and rage. What had happened? Why was he so mad? Why was he so distort? What had Makoto done to shatter the man he always knew as soft, if I bit naive. He never wanted that. Sure, he was frustrated that Nagisa and Rei had “chosen” Haru over him. It hurt him. But he never wanted anything malice to come out of it. He just wanted to have friends. To have his friends. It was all he ever wanted. What had he done?

_What had he done?_

Why could he not stop hurting his friends?

_Why could he not stop hurting his friends?_

**Why could he not stop hurting his friends?**

“I bet it must have been nice,” Rei said, his voice decorated in sarcasm. “To have Haru fawn over you like a piece of meat. To always appear so _nice_ and _kind_. It must have been real nice. Was it, Makoto? Was it nice?”

Makoto tried to turn his head, but he had no strength to do so. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Don’t fuck with us!” Nagisa bellowed. He slapped Makoto across the face. “You were always Haru’s favourite. Always the special one. Where did that leave us? The forgotten sidekicks? What do you think that was like?”

“No, it was . . . it was never like that. It wasn’t. We were all friends, Nagisa . . . we were all friends.”

“It what universe, Makoto?”

“. . . All of them.”

Rei snickered. He could hear him walk around to where Nagisa was standing.

He took a deep breath.

“You don’t get it, do you, Makoto? How entitled can you be? Your mind has only ever been filled with yourself and Haru. Of course you wouldn’t have noticed anything else. You always saw the world in your one idealised fashion. The world isn’t like that, Makoto. You stole a friend from us. You stole love from us. Haru was always so fixated on you; he never had any time for the rest of us,”

Makoto’s eyes were filled with fresh tears. His heart lurched out of his throat. “I-I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry.”

“You don’t mean that,” Nagisa spat. “You didn’t know what it was like, to be side shows to the main dish of the Rin, Haru and Makoto show. You don’t know what it was like.”

“Why are you just mad at me then?” Makoto asked, though he was still sore to lift his head and look either of them in the eyes. “Why aren’t you mad at Haru or Rin?”

“You really don’t get it, do you, you moron? We love Haru, of course we would not get mad at him . . . and Rin, he took the time to get us and listen to us. But you? You just kept going on like there was no problem. You didn’t see what you were doing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Makoto pleaded. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have done it if I had known. I’m sorry.”

Nagisa walked in front of him and lifted his head. He dragged his thumb down Makoto’s cheek to his chin. “See, the thing is, Makoto, I don’t think you are. I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”

Rei walked over and placed his hand on Makoto’s face as well. “So now you’ll feel that pain too. You’ll feel that pain of not being enough. Of being broken – you will remember that you are broken.”

They wrapped a band around his head and tied it to the chair so he his head could not drop down.

Rei and Nagisa took each other’s hands and started to walk out of the classroom. Once they reached the chalkboard they turned around back to Makoto. “We were so lonely, you know? We just wanted friends, Makoto.”

They both punched the chalkboard. It splintered the board and left a large crack that continued to stretch over the entirety of it. Once they had opened the door and left they slammed it shut with a piercing bang.

The force of it caused the rest of the board to shatter down onto the ground. A large dust of chalk exploded around the room. Once the air had cleared Makoto opened his eyes and saw that behind the board there had been a window.

His stomach clenched and dropped.

Through the window there was so much skin. Soft skin rubbing against more skin. There were so many people.

He saw their red flushed skin. Their bodies all moved in different ways, yet they seemed to be linked and similar. Makoto was stuck in a paradox of wanting to be like them and to get away from them. Their mouth moved seductively and in the breaths of small moans. Makoto’s body felt warm and cold at the same time. He felt as though he was supposed to yearn for something while he watched these people. And he did. But it was not what someone else would yearn for. He yearned to desire what he saw. He did not yearn for it in itself.

He wanted to have what they had with all of his being. He wanted to want it. He wanted to crave it. But he could not. What tasted like sweet elixir to so many tasted of dry salt to him. What gave others life made his own feel smaller.

It did not matter who, girl, boy, a mixture of the two, somewhere in-between or neither, he did not crave what the world claimed made them human. To the world, to himself, he was not human. He could no lust. He could not desire like them. He could not give or be given the secrets to love. Or the secrets they all proclaimed were real. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly, but he could not. It felt as if the universe had exiled him to loneliness before he had a chance to prove himself. Before he had a say.

Once, many years ago, Makoto had tried to make himself have sex. He found an attractive young man, he made out with him. He touched him. He went to a hotel with him. He let the heat of their bodies blend into one. He thought that maybe, just maybe, if he pushed himself to do it once he would like to it more. He thought it would solve all of his problems, he thought, maybe, he would be more likeable and loveable if he just did it once. Just once. That was all he needed, and then, he could finally be human. It had not ended well though. He had panicked. He could not bring himself to do it. He ended that night walking away in the cold, no more human than he was when he started the evening.

He tried to look away from the room of people making love. He did not want to be reminded of who he was not. He did not want to be reminded of what he could not have. He did not want to see them. At all. He was scared he may start hating them if he was forced to look any longer.

He was terrified he would start hating himself more.

Makoto’s body wracked with tears. His entire body shook. Small dribbles of clear snot ran out of his mouth and curled around his upper lip.

With each wave of tears he released Makoto felt his chair slide back. Swiftly. Quickly. With force. It crashed into the tables and other chairs behind him. His body lurched with each movement. Before he had realised it his chair had struck him against the back wall. His whole body jolted. With one finale wave of tears Makoto was lurched back and he crashed through the wall. As he fell down the wind gushed past his body. His hair was pushed up and his face felt cold with the mixture of drying sticky tears brisk air. His body felt both heavy and weightless as he dropped down. His mind was too clouded to feel scared, or terrified. He did not feel anything. He just fell.

_Down._

_Down._

_Down._

The world around him fell into a blanket of darkness where even the moon and the stars had hibernated. First the chair he was tied to started to be disintegrated. Makoto could feel the wood chip and splinter around him. Bursting around him like speckles of sawdust. As he fell further his clothes also started to flake away. The brittle air held his naked body in a bubble of false protection as he fell further. The world around him had not traction, no sides and no end. It just _was_. It always just _was_. Nothing he ever did stopped it from just cruelly _being_. The world took no care for the dolls of the world, better known as humans. It was a fact that Makoto had become very accustom to.

The air around him became tighter and stickier. He opened his eyes and saw a small funnelled light that was growing larger and closer. He closed his eyes and braced himself.

He fell faster and he broke through the light. He fell into an old swimming pool. The water got closer, closer, closer. Makoto could smell the potent odour of chlorine. He crashed into the water. The water was warm against his skin. It hugged his body and pulled him down. Like tiny spiders, bubbles stuck around his arms and legs as he sunk further down. The water cradled his apathetic body. It held him close. Makoto could feel the little air he had left in his body leave his nose and mouth. His naked body felt slippery and smooth through the movements of the water. His back softly crashed against the tiled floor of the swimming pool. He opened his eyes. The water stung them. The world above him was blurry and unclear. He stayed unmoving until he saw a hand come down and wrap around his wrist. Still as a deadweight, Makoto got swiftly pulled up through the layers of water. He normally would have done something, but he had given up trying to have any control or dictation over his life. He just followed through with what it commanded him to.

His upper body was hauled to the pool’s edge where he coughed and spluttered. Water and spit dribbled out of his mouth. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the ground. His legs floated in the water.

“Fuck, that was a close one,” A voice said. It was strong and powerful voice. One that ran through Makoto’s body like electricity. “What in the ever-loving shit were you thinking, Makoto?”

Makoto remained quiet. He kept his eyes closed and focused on breathing the breaths he never asked to have.

He felt a large and wet hand rest on his shoulder and slowly, purposefully, slide down to his right hip. A knee knocked into his own.

“Makoto?” The voice asked.

Makoto lifted his head and turned around. He was greeted with who he thought he would have been, yet he did not know if he truly had the heart to face him.

He was greeted with a smirk from Sousuke.

“You doin’ alright?” Sousuke asked. “You fell pretty fucking hard.”

Makoto brought his hands up and cupped Sousuke’s face. He felt the rough texture of stubble. He could feel all of the warmth of Sousuke seep into his skin.

“Where are we?” Makoto asked.

“I don’t know,” Sousuke grinned, placing his hands on Makoto’s arms. “Where _are_ we, Makoto?”

Makoto looked around scanning the place, yet nothing registered. He had no idea where he was.

“I don’t know . . .” Makoto confessed.

“That’s alright, I don’t think many people do. Where do you want to go then?”

“I want to go home.”

“Ah, _home_. That’s pretty fucking cliché of you, Makoto. I’d have thought you might’ve been a bit more original then that,” Sousuke said. He was still looking down at Makoto with doe-like eyes.

“Where do you want to go then, Sousuke?”

Sousuke was taken aback, like Makoto had just broken the perfectly scripted lines in his head. He had a mixture of warmth and contemplation on his face. He continued to rub his hands up and down Makoto’s arms as he thought about it.

“Someplace with love. And where my body doesn’t hate me,” Sousuke said.

“That’s awfully vague.”

“What can I say?” He laughed. “I’m a vague guy.”

“I don’t know where I want to go, because I don’t know how to get there,”

“No one does, Makoto. That’s sort of the gist of life. No one knows shit about anything, we just pretend to.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” Makoto asked.

“Whatever you can. You’re gonna fuck up, so don’t expect you won’t, but you just keep doing what you can.”

Makoto dragged his hands down from Sousuke’s face to his chest. He felt the _thumping_ of his heartbeat. Sousuke placed his legs on the wall of the pool and pushed off, taking Makoto with him. The two of the started to float around the pool. Makoto closed his eyes and let Sousuke guide him. He had no direction of his own, so he followed the strongest person he could.

“We haven’t really known each other properly for a long time,” Sousuke commented.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

“I don’t think it is,” Makoto said.

“You don’t?”

“Do you?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Sousuke said. “I see what other people have and I question my own evaluations of things. Pretty fucked up, huh?”

“I think that’s pretty normal . . .”

“I don’t think you would say that if you knew who I compared most of my life to,” Sousuke said.

“I already know who it is though. It’s Rin,” Makoto said.

Sousuke softly laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

“You’re not transparent,” Makoto replied. “You just let people know how you feel . . . do you still love him?”

“Rin?” Sousuke asked.

“Y-yeah.”

“Of course I do. I’ll always love him; he means so much to me.”

Makoto kept his eyes up, though he could not see the roof. He could not see anything. The water continued to flow around his naked body. He felt like the dot he was. He felt like a book whose pages had been burnt. His ending and beginning forever unknown. Only spoken in the language of ash.

Sousuke slowly swam over to where Makoto was floating and held his head in his hands. His fingers ran through his hands. Makoto closed his eyes.

“You don’t think you’re worth any love, do you?” Sousuke asked.

“I don’t know. I know I want it, so I think that means I believe I’m worth it.”

“Hmmm,” Sousuke hummed. “I don’t know about that. You don’t think very fucking high of yourself.”

“Does anyone, Sousuke?”

“Yeah, fair point. Most people think fuck-all of themselves. I’ll give you that. Does that mean you should just do the same?”

“It’s hard to find love with no aspirations,” Makoto countered.

“Aspiration is a mere token of privileged gratification,” Sousuke replied. “You don’t fall into that system. I don’t fall into that system. I desire to, as I believe you do too, but my mind is too full of cynical beatings to possibly connect to such a jaded way of society. Life would be much simpler if I could just be another piece though. But who ever gets anywhere by aiming to fulfil fucking simple?”

Makoto let a small smile spread across his face. “If only love was that simple.”

“What’re you on?” Sousuke laughed. “Love’s way more simple then that. Love’s just love.”

“How do we get it though?”

“You ask politely and hope for the best. You’ll probably end up with nothing for a while, but at least you’ll be fucking trying.”

Makoto brought his hand up to Sousuke’s face and rubbed his thumb over it. “Sousuke?”

“Hmmm?”

“May I please have some love?”

“What kind of love?” Sousuke asked.

“Just _love_ ,” Makoto replied.

“I don’t know how long it will last,” Sousuke said.

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t know if it will be what you need.”

“I don’t care,” Makoto said.

“You’ll have to share it.”

“So will you,” Makoto smiled.

Sousuke mirrored his smile and leaned down. His lips slide over Makoto’s and he pushed down. He slowly pulled Makoto up until his hair was out of the water. They broke away and Makoto took a few small breaths. The taste of Sousuke still lingered over his lips.

“Sousuke?”

“Hmm?”

“What am I?” Makoto asked.

“That’s easy. You’re-”

 

The sound of his buzzing phone woke him up. Makoto’s eyes were sore and groggy as he sat up. He lazily reached over and picked up his phone. The snippets of his dream floated out of his mind with each millisecond that passed him.

“Hello?” He said, his voice dry and crusty.

“H-hello . . . i-its Sousuke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first off, everything besides Makoto waking up and talking on the phone at the end was a dream. I tried to make it obvious but I thought I should still let you all know. :)  
> I know this chapter has a different tone to the other ones in this fic, but I thought it was a necessary one to showcase the changes that are now happening. I am sorry if it was a bit of an odd one, or a bit boring to read. 
> 
> Also! I am going to go back over later this week and fix all of the spelling mistakes, I tried to get all of them, but knowing me I probably left a lot of embarrassing ones in it, ahaha. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this chapter. :) I hope you all have a marvellous day! :) <3 <3


	11. Walking in the Shadows of Houses on the Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wounds of the past are opened up for both Sousuke and Makoto.  
> Will they be able to handle it? Or will they both sink under the weight of their own hearts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Thank you so much for reading this chapter and waiting for it! :) <3 
> 
> I am sorry it took a little longer to get out, but it was on the longer side and I feel a little ill, ehehe.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and please, as always, look at the trigger warning list :) And let me know if I have missed any so I can add them in as soon as I can. :) 
> 
> Thank you for all of your support!! <3 
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- GRAPHIC mentions of SUICIDE/ SUICIDAL THOUGHTS  
> \- Anxiety attack  
> \- ABLIETS thoughts and language  
> \- Acephobic thoughts  
> \- Homophobic thoughts  
> \- Intense reaction to suicidal thoughts  
> \- Negative thoughts on weight  
> \- Self hatred 
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, but merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in this situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> Please enjoy :)

He had not planned on going anywhere. He had planned on staying in bed. He had planned on avoiding his family and fading in and out of sleep. He had a lot to think about, as well as holding a great need to take an action he was scared of taking. He needed time and reassurance from himself.

He had not planned on going anywhere.

His friend needed him though, so he would go.

Makoto lethargically moved around his room and found a grey shirt and some old jeans to wear. However, as he went to grab his phone and bag he noticed and felt how his shirt sat on him. It felt wrong. It was sitting on him in a way that made him want to rip and tug at it. It was both loose and restricting. He felt as though it showcased the flaws and faults of his stomach and arms in a way he would have no hope of hiding. He quickly threw it off and stood in the middle of the room, his body moving up and down in small breaths. His body felt as if it was hyper sensitive. He could feel each roll and each bit of skin that he thought was softer than it should have been.

He wanted to go back to bed. To just sleep the day away so he would not have to think about it anymore.

He took another deep breath. He felt his skin roll.

_He took another deep breath._

He closed his eyes for a moment – once he opened them he made his way back to his cupboard and pulled out his large pink jumper. It would do. It would hide everything he wanted to stay hidden. From himself and from the world.

He took another deep breath.

Makoto found a pair of clean black socks and put them on. One foot at a time.

He could do this.

He had to.

He had to do it.

He made a promise; he intended on keeping it.

Makoto sprayed himself with a wave of deodorant and took a final deep breath before making his way downstairs.

A line of light that had broken through the small crack in the curtains shone through the empty fish bowl that sat near his bed. It shone through the collected dust that floated _around, around, around_ the air.

A few of the steps creaked and groaned with the weight of Makoto on them. He tightly gripped the handrail and continued his way down. Once he made it to the bottom he heard a soft yet quick movement to his side.

“Oh! Makoto,” His mother said. “I-I didn’t expect to see you today . . .”

He looked over at her and she seemed so tired. So old. He was ashamed to admit he was probably the cause of a few of the wrinkles and grey hair. He may even have attributed to the light shade of rings under her eyes. He was probably the cause of a lot of tension in the walls of that house. He delivered more than his parents signed on for.

Romance drama, homework stress, staying out too late with friends, playing too many video games and only eating junk food: That was what his parents signed up for. They did not sign up for a _child_ who could not stick to anything socially worthwhile and was drowning in his own heart and mind. They never signed up for any of that. Makoto knew that. He did not sign up for it either.

He knew they never wanted him to turn out the way he was. He _knew_. Yet he could not hold a small volcano of resentment towards them for their inability to just understand him. He hated that he felt that way, he truly did, yet he could not stop it. He could not stop feeling like they, along with himself, had let him down.

His family felt like a puddle he would step in with his bare feet – wet mud would get trudged no matter where he walked in life because of it.

“I’m just heading out for a bit,” Makoto said. Though his eyes remained looking at the ground.

His mother stood up and fiddled with the belt around her dress. “W-where are you going?”

“. . . To a friend’s house.”

“Haru’s?” She said, he sensed a little speck of hope in her voice. Even though he never told her what happened. Maybe mothers did just pick up on things.

“No, S-sousuke’s,” He said.

Makoto looked up and saw his mother processing what he was saying. She was trying to add the pieces together to the puzzle of her son’s life and existence. “Oh-! He’s that nice boy that popped over a little while ago, right?” She asked. “The one with the, um, _bun_ ,” She said, making a hand gesture above her head.

Makoto nodded his head. “Yeah, him.”

A small yet nervous smile hesitantly spread across her face. “I hope you have fun then.”

He thanked her and made his way to the kitchen. He never knew how his mother would be. Some days she was cold and distant around him, other days she was nervous yet kind. He had no clarity on what she saw him as or how she felt about him. He did not know which version of her was the most authentic. Perhaps both were. Perhaps neither were. Maybe she hid her truest feelings of him down deep in her stomach – so far down that she would never have to look at them, and only have to deal with them prickling her heart every so often.

He filled a cup with tap water and drank it quickly. Bits of it dribbled down his chin. He washed his hands with the dry and small bar of soap – it left his hands feeling like shaved wood. Makoto closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He could do it.

 _He could do it_.

With hesitant caution Makoto walked to the front door. He sat down and grabbed his shoes. They were the only ones still there. They were old and broken. They looked dirty and well used. He had never taken much notice of them, they were just shoes after all, yet for some reason that morning his heart swelled while looking at them. Why had he never bought himself a new pair? Or, at the very least, bought himself a second pair. It would have been simple. All Makoto would have had to have done was walk down the shops and pick out a cheap pair. When he was working he would have had enough money for it, heck, he could have even just asked for some money. Why had he never done that simple, _simple_ , action? Had he really wrapped himself up in his mind _that_ much that a task as simple as that escaped him?

No wonder he had lost it all.

No wonder he ended up where he was in life.

He could not even get himself to buy new shoes. They were things he needed. They helped him walk further in life. Yet he could not do it. He never went and got himself a new pair. Was he that broken?

 _Yes_. He felt so.

His inability to do anything worthwhile must have been an indication of it. Maybe he had missed his opportunity to ever truly fix the man he had become. Maybe there was no future Makoto. Maybe there was never meant to be a future Makoto. Perhaps, he was only meant to be a figment of the past and nothing more. Maybe his destiny was only to be found in the past, where the present and the future could not maim him.

 _He closed his eyes and took a deep breath_.

Before leaving he patted his pockets to make sure he had his phone and then he walked out into the world. The morning air and wind caked itself around his face. His lips felt crusty and dry against its chilling touch. His felt a mixture of cold and warm. His fingers felt tight and crisp, yet his stomach felt warm – until a cold gust of wind would slide down his shirt and make his stomach roll.

The ground felt firm and real beneath his feet. The world around him felt real. Everything felt real. Makoto himself though felt like a painting walking through the town. He felt abstract. As if perhaps he was the type of painting that sent an artist mad for just being wrong in some way that indescribable. One line – two lines – three lines – a dot of paint – a shade, or tone – something was out of place. Something was not right. And everyone knew, so they all would come and look, to see if they could guess what it was.

Makoto felt narcissistic for feeling that way – he knew no one in the world would care enough to look at him. It was an odd juxtaposition of emotions that his heart often felt.

He placed his hands in his pockets and fiddled with his fingers as he walked as quickly as he could. His skin always felt as if it was itchy when he was outside. He could never seem to be completely still in fear of what it would mean for him. He kept his eyes down and did not remove his eyes from his shoes. His _dirty old_ shoes.

He could smell the potent and intoxicating scent of the ocean. In waves it rolled and crashed over his body. It smelt familiar yet distant. It curled around his body and his mind. It kept him grounded, yet it pulled him to the past and to his hopes. It was a very distinct smell. He had never come across another one like it. If it was similar it was also too strong, or too dirty. Yes, nothing was like it in itself. He would crave that smell some days. He knew many people thought it was an unpleasant smell – too harsh and demanding – but Makoto never thought that way. It was a nice smell to him. It helped to remind him where he was and where he had been. It was the smell of his little town. It was the smell of his high school. It was the smell of his past. It was the smell of his siblings. It was the smell of his friends.

It was the smell of Haru.

It was the smell of Sousuke.

It was _his_ smell.

Makoto turned the corner and saw the green and rusty cover of the bus stop. The single seat slightly knocked to the side with bent weeds growing underneath it sat under it. It felt calm and surreal. With the wind still softly blowing Makoto walked over to the seat and sat down. He slightly stretched his feet out and watched the painted clouds in the sky softly move around. The wind kissed his neck and trickled up his legs.

Everything was cool and warm.

The sound of laughter drifted through the air, carried by the wind. Through the corner of his eyes, Makoto saw a group of three friends walking up to the bus stop. They were grinning wildly and pushing each other affectionately. The smell of their lit cigarettes dusted his nose and covered his cheeks like spilt blush.

He felt his stomach grow warm. He was happy for them. He was happy they could be filled with smiles. Yet his own heart yearned for it as well. They did not look all that old, twenty two perhaps. He wondered if they knew how lucky they were, to still be in the peak of their youth. To still have friends like they did. He hoped they knew how lucky they were. He hoped it would last for them. He hoped they would always laugh and tug on each other the way they were. He so strongly hoped that for them – despite the fact he would most likely never see them or think of them again. In that small moment of time, he wished the world for them.

One of them caught him looking at them and gave him a bright smile and waved his hand at Makoto. Makoto softly smiled back and gave a small wave in return. His face went a tinge of light red and stomach curled and jumped.

The cool wind continued to softly blow around his warm body as he waited for the bus. Snippets of tension had been cut from him and presented as a gift to the sea and the ever blowing winds of the skies. Makoto stretched his legs out a little further.

On the footpath in front of him a young mother and her son were walking. The mother held a couple of plastic grocery bags in her arms and her young son had a little toy in his right hand. He was running and skipping ahead with all the joy and pleasure that could only ever come from the beautiful and naive nature of being young. His small giggles were being sung into the world like a beacon of hope. His mother called out to him to be careful and watch what he was doing, yet he paid no mind. He was in paradise. In his little world pain was not a thing, so he continued to skip forward with pride and happiness.

Makoto found himself smiling at the young boy.

Makoto looked up the street to see if the bus was coming, it was not, however, he saw a small elderly woman walking towards him. Her brown cane tapping along the concert of the footpath. As she got closer they made eye contact and she smiled at him. He gave a small smile in return. She stopped near the BUS STOP sign. Quickly Makoto stood up from the chair and walked over to her.

“Um, would you like to sit down?” He asked. “M-mam.”

She turned her small and weathered face towards him and smiled again. She patted his arm. “Thank you, dear, I would love to.”

She slowly walked over the seat and cautiously lowered herself down. Makoto smiled at the ground, and continued to wait for the bus. His fingers no longer felt cold.

The seconds and minutes slipped past Makoto as his mind thought of nothing. The world moved slowly with it. As the bus started to turn around the corner he saw the elderly women use her cane to help herself stand and the group of boys squish and throw their cigarettes into the nearby bin. Makoto straightened his back. He rolled his shoulders and pulled out the coins from his pocket.

Once the bus stopped Makoto saw his stretched and curved face in the reflection of the dirty window. He looked away quickly.

He was the last to enter the bus. The bus driver smiled at him and Makoto smiled back. He mumbled where he wanted to go and handed the money over to the bus driver, who gave him a ticket in return. Makoto walked up the aisle of the bus to the very back. The seat was scratchy and faded in colour, but Makoto did not mind too much. He looked down at his feet – a little too scared to look out of the window – and let the bus take him. He moved his feet ever so slightly and let his body be swayed by the movements of the bus.

He took a deep breath.

He had a little bit of time to compose himself before he reached Sousuke’s.

He hoped it was enough time.

Though, for most things, the world could never seem to give him enough time. No matter how much he pleaded or begged.

Makoto entwined his fingers together and rested them on his knees. He was crumpled and bent in an odd manner, but it helped to keep him steady and calm. He felt the bumps and the turns of the bus as it travelled along the road. The wind and the world blew on outside. Every few beats it would stop and some people would get on, some people would get off, but Makoto stayed still. His eyes still glued to the floor. His mind still running.

After around twenty minutes Makoto slowly lifted his head and peaked out of the window placed a little in front of him. Two more stops, he thought.

 _Two more stops_.

He slowly looked around at the current people on the bus. None of them were the people who had first joined him. Makoto stretched his feet out and waited for the bus to get the stop he needed.

He saw the sign approaching and hesitantly pressed the button to make the bus stop. He had hoped he was right. He had hoped he had the directions right in his head. He had hoped he was not lost.

As the bus started to come to a halt, Makoto stood up and gripped the sides of the chairs. He put all of his weight onto them. His heart felt like it jolting. Each step came with a ricochet against his heart.

He softly thanked the bus driver and left.

The brisk air greeted him. It ran its hands around his neck and guided his hair.

Makoto pulled out his phone and looked at the map with Sousuke’s address in it. He twisted his head around to try and find the first street he had to walk down. Once he found it he slowly started making his way.

He was glad that Sousuke apparently lived in a quiet area. Makoto was the only one at the time walking around the street. It helped make him feel a little less uncomfortable. It helped to push him a long a little further.

 _Just a little further_.

The rich and unfamiliar smell of the air coated Makoto’s nose. It smelt of freshly cut grass and cold flowers. It was potent and comforting. New sensations normally made Makoto nervous, yet this was a smell he knew was linked to Sousuke, even if just in a small manner; so it comforted him. A part of him still wanted to turn around and go back to his _own_ room in his _own_ neighbourhood – the place he at least had the allusion of routine to create a façade of control and emotional discipline – yet he was determined to help his friend. He was determined to provide whatever part of himself he could to Sousuke. He knew the actions he was taking would change the dynamics of what they had. He knew that very well. Whenever one gave a part of themselves away it would always change _something_. Always.

He was prepared to make that sacrifice though. He was prepared for the consequences. He knew his friend needed help, even if just a little, here and there. So he would provide it. He would provide all he could.

Makoto made his way further down the street and turned right up a hill.

There was a wide array of buildings and homes in that area. Makoto was a little blown away by it. He knew, but also did not know, that so many different families and homes could occupy one small spot. He wondered what sorts of people lived in those houses. Did their houses reflect who they were? Were they happy?

Makoto hoped they were. He hoped they were all happy.

He knew it would not be true though. He knew that many of the clean walls that were presented to the world held darkness and blue sadness in them. He knew that all too well. Sometimes, the most pristine and well looked after walls held the darkest secrets. Secrets they did not even know they held. Not all houses were homes, and Makoto knew that despite how they looked, he was probably walking past more houses then he was homes.

It saddened him. He hated how there were probably spilled hearts and drained dreams washed along the walls of the forgotten rooms of those rooms.

They were all such beautiful houses, owned by beautiful people he had yet to meet; yet they were probably rotting at the base with an incurable sadness that would come in waves with each new generation or family that lived there. It was sad that so much sadness had to litter the streets of the world. Even the beautiful ones. Even more so the dirty and damaged ones.

Was there a single street in the world that had not been drained by the gutters of the human heart?

Makoto did not know.

He hoped maybe there were.

He continued to walk along the footpath (which was still slightly going uphill) and he pulled out his phone to make sure he was still heading in the right direction. He was in the right street. He assumed he must be getting closer to Sousuke’s apartment building. As he walked along a little further he saw a tall grey building in the distance. That must have been it. Makoto continued to walk in an even pace. The building grew larger and closer. Once he reached the building he checked his phone again.

Yes. It was the right building.

All things considered, it was a fairly humble building. A few cracks wriggled around it. The colour was dull and the balconies were nothing all that special. Only two cars sat in the carport. They too were fairly humble.

He wondered if Sousuke could drive.

He placed his phone back in his pocket. He took a deep breath. He took a deep breath. Makoto felt nervous and uncertain, yet his feet felt light. The weight of expectation did not exist to him in that moment. He took one last deep breath before walking up the stairs and heading to room 10.

 _The door will be unlocked – just come straight in. I’ll probably still be in my office,_ He remembered Sousuke said.

With the slightest bit of hesitancy (what if he had the wrong room and walked in to some stranger’s house?) Makoto turned the handle and cautiously stuck his head in.

“H-hello?” He whispered.

No one answered him. Quietly, Makoto took off his shoes and walked down the hallway. There were doors on all sides of him, yet they were all closed. At the end of the hallway he could see a small dining room. Just as the hallway was coming to an end, to his left, Makoto saw a door slightly ajar. Pulling at his fingers nervously, Makoto walked over to the door and stuck his head through the crack.

“Sousuke?” He mumbled.

Lying on the ground, with pencil shavings and paper scattered around him, Sousuke opened his eyes and softly grinned. “You came,” He said, “I was starting to think you’d never show up.”

Makoto opened the door fully and slowly walked in. His socks dragged against the ground. “I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean to take so long.”

Sousuke let out a dry laugh, closing his eyes again. “Nah, I’m just messin’ with ya. I really appreciate you coming.”

“Of course I’d come . . .” Makoto said. Carefully stepping over the papers all over the floor Makoto went and softly sat down next to Sousuke.

The state Sousuke was in was one Makoto had never seen on him before. His hair was dry and messily pooled around his head. His eyes looked red rimmed, yet they also held a greyish tinge under them. His normal light stubble was patchy and rough. His cheeks slightly glistened under the intense glow of the light.

Makoto did not know what to do. So he just sat there and allowed Sousuke the room to talk when he was comfortable to. With all that had been through Makoto’s mind recently he did not trust himself to start the conversation. So he waited.

With Sousuke’s long body lying on the ground, and the paper and stacks of books scattered everywhere, the room felt small and snug. The small ticking of the clock on the wall, and the soft tapping of the wind against the window was all that Makoto could hear. The room smelt musky, like it was holding the heart of illness in it. It felt both thick and subtle at the same time. Like it was slowly dragging Makoto down.

He felt Sousuke move.

He was turned over to the side – his head resting on his shoulder. Makoto slowly started to lay down into the same position. Their eyes were locked. Up close Makoto could clearly see how wrecked Sousuke looked. It filled his stomach with a pain of helplessness.

“I’m not doin’ too good,” Sousuke confessed. His voice was soft yet rough and strained at the same time.

Makoto looked at him nervously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sousuke repeated. “. . . I don’t feel like I have the right though.”

“What do you mean?” Makoto asked.

“There’s so much shit out in the world, so much terrible shit . . . I feel like I’m a bad person for getting upset over what I do.”

Makoto moved a little closer. “You can’t help how you feel. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Sousuke gave him a strained smile. “I know, but – I know I’m allowed to feel the way I do. I just sort of hate it. Because even though I know I’m allowed to, I don’t _feel_ like I should be.”

Tentatively, Makoto brought his hands up to Sousuke’s. He gripped them and stared at Sousuke’s chin. “You are. No matter what. No matter what, you are allowed to feel what you are feeling . . . a-and you’re allowed to be frustrated and you’re allowed to talk about it,” Makoto said.

Sousuke’s eyes glossed over and he squeezed Makoto’s hands.

They looked into each other’s eyes and Makoto waited.

 _He waited_.

“I really hate my body,” Sousuke professed. His voice was tinged with disgust and malice. “I hate how fucking _broken_ it is. It’s made life so much harder than it has to be . . . and it took my chances away to be the person I worked so bloody fucking hard to be,” His voice was loud and pounding. It thumped through Makoto’s ears.

“Sousuke . . .” Makoto whispered.

“I know I could have probably done other things, but I didn’t want to do it if I couldn’t do it the way I wanted to from the start. It was stupid and arrogant of me to think that way. I know it. I know it is – yet I still feel that way,” He gritted his teeth. “It’s just not _fair_. I worked hard all my life, and then _this_. Not only is my body weak and pathetic, but so is my mind. I can’t do things like normal people because of all of my fucking anxiety. I know I don’t have it as bad as some people, and sometimes I can go awhile without it acting up really bad. I almost start to think I’m normal. I start to trick myself. And then it just fucking comes out of fucking nowhere and all of a sudden I’m that weak and pathetic piece of shit again. I hate it so much. My body and my mind have ridded me of so many things in life and I fucking hate it,” Sousuke was panting. His voice was hoarse. “It’s not _fucking fair_.”

With a shaking grip, Makoto brought his hand up to Sousuke’s face. He cautiously dragged his hand down, then back up, then back down, then back up. He saw Sousuke’s breath hitch in his throat. He started to close his eyes and pushed into the pressure of Makoto.

“I’m sorry,” Sousuke mumbled. His words stuck to his dry lips.

“You don’t have anything to say sorry about,” Makoto smiled.

“I do . . . I didn’t call you first. I guess you could say I treated you as a second choice. I know that’s how I’d take it if it was the other way round. It wasn’t though,” Sousuke lamented. His eyes remained closed.

“T-this isn’t about me right now, Sousuke,” Makoto replied. “It’s about you. You’ve nothing you need to say sorry for. You deal with life in any way you have to.”

Sousuke opened his eyes and affectionately smiled at Makoto. “I think you’re too kind of a person, Makoto. Too very kind.”

Makoto shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’d go that far. You’re my friend, and you needed me. Weather I was your first choice or your thirtieth choice; you chose to call me because you needed me. Why would I not come to help you?”

Sousuke was frozen. He kept learning new little wonders about Makoto that moved his entire world. They always came in little earthquakes that left his heart defenceless. He felt like the flood gates had been busted open and he could just _be_. _He could just be_. He could just blurt out his soul, and he knew it would be caught.

He could just be selfish. Just once.

Makoto allowed him feel he could be selfish. It was so liberating. His heart felt so free. His emotions so raw. It felt like the stalemate in his mind had _finally_ come to an end. He knew it would be fleeting. He knew it would not last. That was not how life worked. Life came in odd patterns and sizes. Life could be beautiful. Life could be cruel. But life was not something that could be saved or salvaged by anyone other than the individual. Sousuke knew that. He knew no one human could rid a heart of all of its bumps and bruises. It was something he would have to do for himself. He knew that oh-so-well. Sometimes, he needed guidance though. Sometimes he needed hope. Sometimes he needed someone else to smile for him, not just with him. Life could never be fixed or forgotten because of someone else, but it could be made a little brighter. It could be made a little more bearable, if only for a space of time. Sousuke knew Makoto would not be able to remove his anxiety. He knew Makoto could not fix his shoulder or self-worth. Those were things only he was capable of coming to terms with. Just as he or Haru would not be able to fix Makoto. But he felt lighter. He felt like he had been given an opening. So he would take what he could. Just once he would be selfish.

 _Just once_.

_Just once he would be selfish._

_Just once._

“I’m pissed,” Sousuke said. “I don’t . . . I don’t feel like I deserve any of this. I don’t want to be this way. I hate it so much. I feel like if I didn’t have any of these problems I would’ve been further ahead in life . . . I feel – I feel like I might have a chance with Rin. I always feel so fucking guilty for thinking it, I know he is happy with Haru, I wouldn’t want to come between what they have, but I hate it so much. I hate I can’t be the person I want to be. I hate how my fucked up body played a role in that,” Sousuke cried. Small tears started to come out of his eyes.

“Sousuke,” Makoto whimpered. Makoto moved closer to Sousuke and sat up. He looked down to Sousuke and softly wiped his tears away. He bent down and wrapped his arms around Sousuke’s _broad_ and _strong_ shoulders. He dipped his head down and continued to hold Sousuke. “I’m so sorry, Sousuke . . . I’m so sorry.”

After his initial state of shock, Sousuke brought his arms up and tugged Makoto close. He felt so small in that moment.

He felt so warm.

“He didn’t come, did he, Sousuke?” Makoto whispered. His breath kissing Sousuke’s ear.

Through small hiccups Sousuke shook his head. “H-he’s too busy with H-haru . . . _fuck_ ,” He choked. “It’s all g-gone. Who I was. W-what we had. I know he cares . . . I k-know he does, and I-I know Haru is his priority. I g-get that. But it still fucking h-hurts. W-why couldn’t he come? _W-why_?”

A few unwelcomed tears burned against Makoto’s eyes.

***

_“What the fuck are you on about, Rin?” Sousuke asked. A grin started spread across his face._

_“I don’t know. I’m just pissed is all.” Rin said._

_The summer heat stuck to the two boys as they walked along the footpath next to the road. Their school uniforms stuck to their skins. The potent smell of cologne sifted between them._

_“You’re always pissed about something, man,” Sousuke laughed._

_“Yeah, yeah,” Rin grinned at him and shoved him a little to the side. “I’m just done with this fucking place. I can’t wait until I’m out and I can just do what I want. We can take on the world then!”_

_Sousuke shook his head. “I don’t know about you, man, but I ain’t looking for any of that. I just want to get by. Stay with you. All that stuff.”_

_Rin jogged ahead. His bag bobbed with him. Some of the ice from his Popsicle dribbled down his arm. “You think too small, Sousuke!” He said as he kicked a pebble on the road. “You’re always gonna have me anyway, so you don’t have to worry about that. Don’t fret the small stuff and keep your eyes on the big stuff!”_

_Sousuke jogged up to where Rin was. “Okay. I want to swim with you. I want to swim with you a lot. That’s my big dream,” Sousuke said._

_Rin grinned at him. His aspirations and misguided optimism leaked through the air and interrogated Sousuke’s perceptions of the future. “That’s more like it!”_

_They continued to walk along the path in the blazing spring heat. Their steps followed the same beats. Their eyes followed the same future. Sousuke felt content. He felt like he could hold onto that presence and optimism for all the years to come. He was sure he could._

_As they walked around the corner they saw two people in the distance. Slowly walking side by side._

_“Is that Makoto and Haru?” Rin asked. “I think it is! They must be heading off to the beach after finishing school,” He added._

_Sousuke looked ahead and saw the face of the black haired boy that was so prominent in his life – despite him not even being friends with him._

_“I’m going to go catch up with them,” Rin said. “You okay heading back by yourself?”_

_Sousuke smiled at Rin. “Yeah, of course.”_

_“Alright, sweet. I’ll catch you later then.”_

_Rin ran off to Haru with a smile on his face, leaving Sousuke to walk up the hill by himself._

***

“I’m sorry, Sousuke,” Makoto said. “I understand this must be really hurting you now . . . but Rin still really cares about you – he does. I know he does. You two have something special. Something that’s not just found but grown – but – but I know it must hurt to not be seen a certain way by your number one person . . .”

Sousuke let out a dry laugh into Makoto’s neck. “Rin’s not my number one.”

“H-he’s not?”

Sousuke shook his head.

“W-who is?”

“I am.”

Makoto lifted his head; his hands were still softly cradling Sousuke. He looked so pale and ill. He looked so sad and broken. Despite the winds and flames that were howling inside of Makoto, he just wished he could have eased a bit of Sousuke’s own storm.

“I know that I can really hate myself sometimes, and what my body is like, but I care about myself the most. I want myself to be happy the most.”

Makoto continued to look down at Sousuke. “I mean, I-I’m glad you feel that way . . . it’s a good way to feel. I just never would’ve thought.”

A small smile blossomed on Sousuke’s face. “And why’s that?”

“You just always seemed a bit like a martyr to me . . . I figured you couldn’t feel that way about yourself if you acted that way.”

Sousuke chuckled and closed his eyes. His large, warm hands were still around Makoto. “I think you’re projecting a little bit there,” He said. “ _Makoto_.”

“No – no I’m not . . .”

“Maybe just a little bit,” Sousuke smiled.

Some time passed through them before Makoto spoke again.

“How do you do it?” Makoto whispered.

“Do what?”

“Go from crying and feeling such sadness, to just lying there peacefully with a small smile on your face,” Makoto replied. “How do you do it?”

“I don’t know – practice?”

Makoto shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s that. I think it’s just who you are. It’s in your personality,” He said. “You really are . . . _incredible_ , Sousuke.”

Sousuke opened his eyes again and smiled at Makoto. “You really are very kind, Makoto. You always say such kind things to me. Thank you,” He said. “I’m glad you came. I really am. I was able to get some stuff off my chest because of it, you know? I’m thankful for that, I really am.”

Makoto leaned down. “I really didn’t do anything all that special. You pulled yourself out.”

“Yeah, true,” Sousuke said. “I did pull myself out, and given some time I probably could have done while alone too, but that’s not the point. You gave me time and I came out a little bit earlier. I didn’t have to sit in it for as long, because you showed me you cared. I called Rin, and he listened to me, but he couldn’t come. I don’t hold it against him; at least, I know I won’t. But you came. We haven’t known each other for the longest time, all things considered, but you still came. That means a lot to me. So, thank you, Makoto. From where I’m standing, you did do something special, even if it wasn’t big. But you don’t have to do big things, it’s okay.”

Makoto pushed his head into the nook of Sousuke’s neck he tightly wrapped his arms around Sousuke and softy squeezed. He felt his composure softly splintering away.

“See?” Makoto said. “ _Incredible_.”

Sousuke brought his arm up and softly pushed his fingers through Makoto’s hair. “Life’s so focused on having everything proven. People always have to fucking see how something got from point A to point B and it has to make sense in their mind before they will accept it or call it believable. Don’t let that mentality do shit to you, okay? When I say you are amazing and kind, believe me. Don’t ask me to prove it with actions I may or may not remember. Just take my word for it.”

“I’ll try,” Makoto mumbled. “Are you able to stand?”

Sousuke pushed his thumb across Makoto’s cheek as Makoto lifted his head. “I actually don’t know. I always get a little weak and dizzy after these.”

“Can I help you stand up?”

Sousuke laughed. “I mean, you can try. Knock yourself out.”

Makoto de-tangled himself from Sousuke and stood up. He tightly gripped Sousuke’s hands and pulled. In a wobbly and unstable manner Sousuke came to his feet. Once up he tightly held onto Makoto’s shoulders. Once he was off the ground Makoto could see how flushed and covered in sweat he was. Large sweat stains had bled across Sousuke’s back and under his arms. His face still looked sticky from tears.

“Sorry, I probably look and smell like fucking shit at the moment.”

“No, don’t worry about that. Maybe you should have a shower or something though? I’m sure you’ll feel a little better if you do.”

Sousuke looked away. “Could you help me to the bathroom?” He asked. “Please?”

“O-of course,” Makoto replied. He stabilised Sousuke against him. He pushed the door open a little further with his foot and slowly walked out of the room.

“Just down the hall there,” Sousuke said, motioning where to go with his head. Makoto tightened his grip. Each step felt like a mile. The weight of Sousuke against him was warm and real. Once they made it to the door Makoto opened it and helped Sousuke in.

“Thank you, Makoto,” Sousuke said.

“T-that’s okay.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t need your help getting in,” Sousuke winked as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “This time.”

“R-right,” Makoto replied. “I-I’ll just be out here then.”

Sousuke smirked.

Makoto closed the bathroom door and made his way past the dining room to what he assumed was the lounge room. He sat down in the white chair and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and sighed. Each day he only had a set amount energy his body seemed to allow him access to. Makoto felt like he had exerted it all. He leaned back so his head was fully against the cushions of the chair. He heard the rumbling of the water pipes and the faint scattering sound of running water.

The wind still pushed and pulled outside.

Makoto brought his legs up and relaxed his body. He let the pull and pleads of sleep control his body. He let himself go.

 

His eyes felt groggy. He slowly started to open them. He was confused at first; he had forgotten where he was. He turned his head to the side and saw Sousuke sitting in the other chair, reading a book. The room smelt of fresh soap.

“Ah, and the prince is awake,” Sousuke grinned as he looked up from his book. “You’ve been out for a little bit it seems.”

Makoto quickly sat up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Sousuke chuckled. “Makoto, its fine. Really. I’m glad you were able to have a rest.”

Makoto nodded his head. “How are you feeling?”

“Still a little off,” Sousuke replied. “But I’m not screaming and aggressively hyperventilating on the floor anymore. So that’s a plus.”

“I’m sorry you still don’t feel good. But I’m glad you’re giving yourself a break.”

“So am I. I need to stop pushing myself when I know I’m not emotionally okay,” Sousuke said.

“It can be hard though – I know it can,”

“Yeah, it can be. I just don’t want to end up pushing myself to the point where I’m not doing anything – ah, _shit_ – no, I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to say.”

Makoto shook his head. “It’s okay. I know that’s what I did. I hope you don’t either; it doesn’t do anything good for your self-worth. In all honesty I think it makes me worse, because I get even more upset at myself for being stupid and pathetic and not being able to be somebody.”

“No, Makoto. I shouldn’t have said it,” Sousuke said. His gaze was intense and fully focused. “I know me saying this probably won’t mean much, but you really shouldn’t worry about that stuff, Makoto. Because why do we have to be somebody? The world is constantly telling us that if we don’t become _somebody_ , then we’re automatically a nobody. But that’s a load of fucking shit. We’re still a person. Who cares if we’re not somebody? We’re still something.”

Makoto rubbed his hand on his neck and looked away from Sousuke. “But it’s just that. It’s just as you say, it’s what society says. If you don’t fit what it wants, it throws you to the side. I can’t be worth anything when that happens.”

Sousuke sighed. “I know it’s easy to think that way, but you don’t fully believe that do you?”

“How can I not?” Makoto retorted.

“Do you think Haru is useless and not worth anything?” Sousuke asked.

“What? Sousuke, what does that-”

“He has a shit load of problems. What about me? Am I just this useless thing that should be thrown away?”

“No! Of course not. That’s not what I said. I just-”

“You just what, Makoto?” Sousuke asked. His voice was firm, yet his tone was still low. “If you’re going to tell me that it’s just different for you, because you’re just _that_ much worse than we are, save it. I am not going to listen to it.”

“I mean, I - ”

“Nope. I’m not listening to that shit from you, Makoto. That’s called a double standard. You can’t just drag yourself through the dirt like that.”

“What like you never do that? What was that whole thing before then? You do the same thing, because you know what it’s like to constantly have your brain tell you that,” Makoto mumbled.

“I just don’t want to hear you say that about yourself.”

“Why? That makes no sense.”

“ _Because you don’t deserve it!_ ”

“What?” Makoto breathed.

“You don’t fucking deserve it. You don’t deserve to think that way about yourself!”

“And what? You do?” Makoto asked. “I don’t think you deserve it either, Sousuke. You don’t deserve the pains life has given you. You know it’s not a choice. Our brains don’t work properly.”

“Still . . .”

Sousuke put his book down on the coffee table and walked over to where Makoto was sitting and slowly sat down next to him. He leaned his head against the back of the chair. He closed his eyes and sighed. He was unmoving, yet Makoto could not take his eyes off of him.

“Sousuke?”

“I’m sorry,” Sousuke said. His voice was soft and mellow. It melted Makoto’s tension. “I didn’t mean to get so cross at you. I just get really irritable when I’m like this. I’m sorry.”

Sousuke turned his head to the side and opened his eyes. The room glowed around him. He saw Makoto still looking at him. He saw the way Makoto’s eyes were looking at him. He felt the way his body had been different. He knew there was a thought buried deep under the slippery dunes of Makoto’s mind. He wanted to know what it was. He wanted to repay Makoto, but he also wanted to just help him because it was Makoto. Earlier that morning his own thoughts had been churning the dirt in his mind. He felt unneeded and uncared for. Rationally he knew Rin still cared about him, but his emotions had complete control of his mind. He was at the mercy of them. He believed everything they were telling him. When Makoto came he did not wash Sousuke’s mind clean. No. But he challenged the thoughts in his mind. _He challenged them._ That was what Sousuke needed. He needed his ideals of himself to be brought into question, and Makoto had done that. Whether he knew he did or not. Whether he intended to or not. Makoto made Sousuke question himself in the most positive way possible. Did Makoto save Sousuke? Could Makoto save Sousuke?

No.

Of course not.

That was never how things worked. But he made Sousuke question himself. He made Sousuke see some light. He was friends with Sousuke not to try and save him from his problems, but despite his problems.

Sousuke wanted to do the same for Makoto. Though he did not know how.

He wanted to be a good friend.

Sousuke placed his large and _warm_ hand onto Makoto’s knee. His voice was thick but full of purpose. “You’re not telling me something.”

“Huh?”

“You, Makoto, aren’t telling me something,” Sousuke said. “Could you tell me what? You’ve listened to me. I want to listen to you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Well, I don’t believe that for a fucking second,” Sousuke replied.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

“I’m not going to try and force you,” Sousuke said.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

“But I’d appreciate it if you did,” Sousuke said.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

“It doesn’t matter what, I’ll listen,” Sousuke said.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

“I, um-” Makoto muttered.

_“Why would you tell me that?” He whispered_

_“I can’t do this, Makoto. I can’t be around you. You’re trying to manipulate me, and I can’t be around that,” Haru whispered. He saw Rei, Nagisa and Rin walking down the street to them. He looked at Makoto, who was shaking and sobbing into his arms._

“ _I can’t_. I can’t tell you . . . I’m sorry,” Makoto bit back his tears.

Sousuke sat up a little straighter. “Can you tell me why?”

“B-because you’ll leave me. And – and it would be insensitive to tell you. You’re g-going through your own problems, and I don’t know what they are or how you feel about certain things. I wouldn’t w-want to stir up old feelings or make you r-remember something you’d rather forget. I can’t do that to you. I don’t want to _m-manipulate_ you,” Makoto cried.

Sousuke eyed Makoto carefully. He soaked his own words through his mind before he spoke them. “Are you referring to what happened between you and Haru?”

“ _What?_ ”

“I wasn’t going to tell you, because I figured you’d be better off not knowing, but Haru told Rin what happened. Rin was having a hard time processing it all, so he spoke to me about it. I’m not sure how much he told me, but I feel like I got all that I needed to from it.”

“I’m – I’m sorry, I d-didn’t want you to find out,” Makoto confessed. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m the worst. I did an awful thing.”

“I don’t think you did an awful thing,” Sousuke said. “I think you did an emotionally driven thing, because you were pushed.”

“What? No, no. No, Haru didn’t push me. _I_ was selfish and stupid.”

Sousuke lightly laughed and tapped Makoto on the head with his fingers. “Dummy, I didn’t say _Haru_ pushed you. I just said you were pushed. You cracked, that’s all. I’m not saying Haru was wrong in his actions though. Not that he was entirely right either. It was just a messy situation between two hurt people is all – and that’s saying a lot coming from me, since Haru can get under my fucking skin sometimes, as much as I enjoy our little friendship of sorts.”

“I’m not – I _wasn’t_ in the wrong?” Makoto asked.

Sousuke scratched his head and looked up at the roof. “I mean, you didn’t do it maliciously. And you weren’t given the support that you needed. But you may have not phrased things the right way. And I don’t think Haru did it maliciously either. He just wasn’t able to handle what was happening. I don’t think either of you were right or wrong. You both made mistakes and it just ended up blowing up.”

“I guess I never really thought about it that way . . .” Makoto confessed.

“Yeah?” Sousuke asked as he turned his head back to Makoto.

“Yeah . . . I-I just assumed that I screwed everything up and was a bad person. I couldn’t face Haru after it. Before I knew it, it had been a long time. I’ve tried to speak to him recently, but he didn’t want to really talk to me. I just thought that I was horrible and really hurt him.”

“I don’t think that’s the case. Haru’s just the kind of guy who needs time with stuff. And it has to be resolved on his terms. He needs to make the first step; otherwise he starts to freak out. He doesn’t like it when people try to guide him – at least, that’s the feeling I get from him.”

“I think that makes sense. I mean, I can see it,” Makoto said. “I hope it’s true, it would mean I haven’t lost him forever.”

Sousuke smiled at Makoto. “Nothing is ever lost forever.”

Makoto smiled back at Sousuke.

“So,” Sousuke said. “As I said, you can tell me. No matter what. I am giving you permission. I am emotionally okay enough that whatever you say won’t have a bad effect on me, okay?”

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

Makoto nodded his head. He wondered if he would feel worse or better once he told Sousuke. He did not know what would happen, and that scared him immensely. Makoto hated not knowing how something would turn or how something would end.

He hated surprises.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

The words tasted like pollution on his tongue. Lathering his soul and mind with pain and uncertainty. It was not an easy thing to say to himself. It was even harder to try and say it to someone else. How was he to explain why he felt that way? How was he to describe the emptiness he felt? How was he to show the desperation he felt for his friend Death in that moment? How was he to walk Sousuke through his emotions and fears of Tomorrow and her cruel tongue?

He wanted to release it all out of himself, but he was scared what damage those little words would bring. He never wanted to think about it, yet he always thought about it. He wanted no one to know, yet he wanted to tell his friends so he could get support. He never wanted to do it again, yet his skin also itched for it every day. Some days it was stronger than others, but that need to disappear was permanently tattooed across his eyes. He saw the world through the glasses of desperation and envy of those who had passed.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

Would Sousuke look at him the same once he knew?

Would he want distance?

Would he pity him?

Would he _agree_ with him?

All of the possible outcomes made Makoto terrified. He did not know what to do.

_I’d tried to kill myself again_

Did Sousuke actually want to know? Or was he just saying that because he felt obligated to?

Makoto felt Sousuke squeezed his hand. He was dragged out of his thoughts. He could hear the wind again. He could feel the warmth of Sousuke again. He could smell the soap again.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

“Sousuke?”

“Hmm?”

“I . . . I’d tried to kill myself again.”

Makoto looked up and saw Sousuke’s eyes grow wide. He felt Sousuke’s grip get tighter. He felt the warmth all over his hands. His stomach felt like it was full of lead. He could see how hard Sousuke was trying to process what to say. He could see the strain in his eyes. It looked as if Sousuke knew what Makoto was going to say, but had managed to convince himself it was not true, only to be severely disappointed.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Souske breathed. His voice was strained.

“I’m sorry, Sousuke, I shouldn’t have-”

“No!” Sousuke said firmly. He pulled Makoto into a tight hug. Makoto tried to push back a bit, but Sousuke held him with all of his strength. His fingers sunk into Makoto’s skin. “ _No_. You don’t get to say sorry. You don’t need to say sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you didn’t go. I’m so glad you didn’t go,” Sousuke whispered. Makoto could hear a thickness in his voice that sounded like he was trying to repress his tears. “God. _Fuck_. This is all so messy. I don’t know what to say. I’m not mad at you, but god, I’m not happy either. It’s all so ugly, Makoto. _Fuck_. T-they don’t talk about this stuff enough. They don’t talk about how fucking shitty and dirty and horrible it is. _Fuck_ ,” He panted.

Makoto gripped Sousuke’s shirt tightly. He buried his head into his chest. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it. I’m still here,” Makoto whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

“I know, god, I know. But,” Sousuke paused. His bit his lower lips before he spoke again. “Do you want to still be here?”

“Sousuke . . .”

“Do you?”

Makoto buried his head deeper into Sousuke’s chest. “ . . . No,” He confessed.

“ _Fuck_ ,”

“I just . . . I can’t find my p-place. Nothing feels good anymore. I-I do nothing but hurt people. I’m not like other people, but I want to be. God, do I want to be. I’m ugly, I’m f-fat. I can’t even be a good friend. I’m so s-scared of tomorrow. I haven’t accomplished anything. I’m n-nowhere near as a-amazing as my siblings. There is always this awful, _awful_ pa-pain in my heart. It never goes away. Oh god, it’s so awful,” Makoto wailed. His tears and snot were flowing onto Sousuke’s shirt. “I-I feel like everything I do is w-worthless. I can’t feel sexual attraction, i-it makes m-me feel so broken. I don’t find j-joy in anything anymore. I feel nothing and everything all at once. I don’t have any other choice! I d-don’t. I was p-put here by m-m-mistake. I wasn’t meant to be here, S-sousuke.”

Sousuke held Makoto closer and tighter. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the only reason you were put on this earth was to die. Maybe that’s your fate – but you see, the thing is, you can never know that for sure. Maybe that’s not your purpose, but you’d never know if you died. Makoto, most of us aren’t put here to do anything big or grand. Most of us are here for the really, really little stuff. The stuff that goes unnoticed or unappreciated – the stuff that people would not even blink an eye at if it stopped. But that’s okay. It’s alright. It’s okay to just _be_ , you’re allowed to just _be_ and _exist_ , Makoto. Your life is not something you have to justify or prove worthy. It’s something you can just have,” Sousuke whispered.

Makoto continued to cry into Sousuke until all he could produce were small little hiccups. He was not sure how long it took, but Sousuke never left his side. Makoto was so grateful for that. His eyes were closed as Sousuke rubbed small circles into Makoto’s back.

The world round them became a blur. Many questions of how and why and when and _why, why, why, why_ , were being thrown around the room and their hearts. Neither two knew where they were supposed to go from there. What were you supposed to do once someone told you that? What were you supposed to do after telling someone that? It was not an issue that could be solved by one person. It was not an issue that one person had to handle by themselves. It was bigger than that. It was something both toxic and debilitating. So many options were available. There were so many choices. Which was the right one? Which one would end happy?

Was a happy ending even something that could be guaranteed?

Or was all happiness a gamble?

“Makoto?” Sousuke mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“Normally I wouldn’t want to force you into anything, but you need to get help. Actual, _professional_ help. You can’t keep walking through life with this chain ball around your throat.”

“I-I have a number for a place,” Makoto said softly.

“Have you called them?”

Makoto shook his head.

“Is there a reason?”

“I’m scared.”

“Is that all?” Sousuke asked.

“I d-don’t think my father would be too happy. H-he already hates the fact I like boys and that I d-dropped out of University and gave up m-my job. He thinks I-I’m lazy and entitled. W-when he gets upset over it, i-it makes my mo-mother upset too . . . I c-can’t upset them anymore then I already have,” Makoto said.

Sousuke rubbed a few circles into Makoto’s back. “Why don’t you come and live with me? I have a spare room, and I could use the company.”

Makoto was about to sit up, in shock, though his body was too weak. He could not move from his spot. “I d-don’t have any money. I couldn’t pay you.”

“I’m not asking you so I can have money. You’re my friend. And you’ve been there for me in times Rin was not able to be. Let me help you the way you’ve helped me, okay?”

“But it’s so much.”

“Alright,” Sousuke said. “Since it seems you’re going to be a stubborn little shit about it, how about we make a deal? You stay here as long as you need to, and then, when you get back on your feet you can start paying me back, if you want to? And, you must go and see someone. You must. Because this isn’t something I can help you with. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t think it would be healthy for me to involve myself too much. Does that sound better?”

“Sousuke . . .”

“Does that sound okay?”

Makoto nodded his head and pushed it further into Sousuke. “Thank you,” He breathed. “Thank you, Sousuke.”

Sousuke gave a small smile of relief and ran his fingers through Makoto’s hair. The wind outside continued to tap and brush against the window. The rooms inside the house were warm and filled to the brim with sticky emotions. They stained the walls and rusted the pipes. It could be cleaned though, in time. It could all be cleaned.

_I’d tried to kill myself again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you so much for reading this chapter! It was actually my longest one yet.  
> All of your support means so much to me!! :) I hope you all have a wonderful day!! :D <3  
> Makoto is finally making the steps to getting help and becoming okay with things, and getting help professionally will help him.


	12. Will We Meet Again At The Crossroads?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto walks into the future trying to keep his head held high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello everyone! Thank you all so much for reading this chapter and for all of your patience! I am so sorry it took so long for me to get it out. All of your support means so much to me!! :) <3   
> I am sorry if this chapter is a tad boring, but I feel as though it is needed as a transition sort of chapter. :)   
> Please be sure to look at the trigger warning list below. 
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Negative reaction to an anxiety attack  
> \- Anxiety attack  
> \- Homophobic opinions  
> \- Negative thoughts on weight
> 
>  
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, but merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in these situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter! :)

_His wet hair clung to his forehead as he shivered in the corner._

_The room around him was warm and sticky and bustling with noise. The smell of chlorine clung to the walls and floors. Some parents sat around the side of the pool in boring plastic chairs, as the children swam in the pools. Some by themselves, others with swimming instructors._

_Sousuke looked up to the window and shivered even more at the thought of walking outside as the wind pushed and cried against the trees and window. His skin felt slippery._

_He cursed himself for being so stupid and forgetting his bag. No clothes and no towel. He was forced to shiver and hopefully dry before the swimming centre closed and he had to walk home. He continued to scowl as he looked out over at everyone else. Through the corner of his eyes he saw a young boy around his own age looking at him intently. Every time Sousuke turned his head to the side though, the boy would quickly and non-convincingly avert his eyes over to the far wall or down to the floor. Sousuke continued to glare._

_His knees started to knock together as he continued to shake. He saw the young boy slowly but surely inch his way closer and closer and closer to himself._

_Once the boy was standing next to him he did not speak. Sousuke did not speak to him either. They stood in silence, wrapped in a bubble of the noise around them made by others. Sousuke was aware of the other people, yet in that moment, the presence of the other boy rung higher and more intently. He did not know if he should feel annoyed or not. It was obvious the boy was going to say something._

_Sousuke just wanted him to get on with it. He was already cold and uncomfortable; he did not want to have to deal with some strange boy._

_“Um,” The boy spoke. “Do you have a towel? Or maybe some clothes?”_

_Sousuke turned his head. His frown clearly etched down his face. Was that kid serious?_

_“No, I don’t.” He turned his head back forward and thought maybe if he just ignored him that boy would go away. He heard the sound of a zipper moving and the low mumbling of the boy talking to himself. He did not care to listen to what he was actually saying though. He never really cared about what anyone had to say, if he was to be honest with himself._

_Except Rin. He did not know why, but he often found himself caring what Rin said. He did not understand why at all, he had never really cared about what other people thought in his life._

_It was not because he was an awful person. At least, that was what he thought. Lots of people probably thought he was cruel or brash, but he was never like that to start any fights or make people uncomfortable. He did not even think of himself as better than anyone else. He just cared about his own opinion more. He always had. He did not have the time to constantly worry about what everyone else had to say or why they said it. People often told Sousuke that made him arrogant and egotistical, and that he would end up with no friends if he kept acting that way. Even at that young age though, Sousuke did not care about that._

_Why should he change himself for other people?_

_Why should he pretend to be someone he was not simply for a bunch of imaginary friends that did not even exist yet?_

_If people did not want to hang out with him, they did not want to hang out with him. That was nothing he could control. If he changed himself, people would not be hanging out with him anymore then they had before, because they would be spending time with a Fake Sousuke, so the Real Sousuke would still be lonely. It all seemed like too much unnecessary work. Sousuke would just be himself. If that made him ‘rude’ or ‘unlikeable’ so be it. He did not care._

_The boy moved a little closer to Sousuke, he was holding something in his hands. He did not say anything but it felt like he wanted Sousuke to turn around again, so begrudgingly, he did._

_“What?” Sousuke asked._

_The boys eyes went wide and his face flushed a dim red. “I just thought you might need this.”_

_In his hands was a large and warm-looking yellow towel. It looked too big for the boy that was holding it. “What for?”_

_A smile split across the boy’s face. “To dry yourself, silly! You’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry yourself properly. That’s what my mamma always tells me.”_

_Sousuke eyed the boy carefully. “Are you serious?”_

_“I sure am!” The boy said eagerly. “I even caught a cold once myself because of it.”_

_“_ No _, not that – I meant about letting me use your towel.”_

_“Use?” He asked. “No, that’s okay. You can keep it. I need to go soon anyway, so you’d have no way to give it back to me. I brought it with me so my friend could use it, but he never ended up coming.”_

_“I-if you’re sure . . .” Sousuke hesitantly put his hand out to get it._

_“I sure am!” The boy grinned as he pushed the towel into his hands._

_“Thank you,” Sousuke replied, a little awe-struck. “Really.” He felt a little bad. He had had such a poor opinion of that boy, but he only wanted to help him. A small smile spread across Sousuke’s face._

_“I have to go and get changed now. It was nice to meet you!” The boy beamed as he waved goodbye._

_Sousuke gave a small wave in return. He did not know what had just happened. Were there actually people like that out there? People that just popped up when you needed them? He never thought there was. Even then he was a little dubious. Maybe he had just imagined it all. The towel had felt so warm and real in his hands though. He continued to stand there for a little longer before he started walking. Being mindful not to collide with some of the younger children that were running around the doors._

_He took himself to the front of the swimming centre near the receptionist desk, where it was most dry. He slowly moved the towel around his body, appreciating the warmth. He sat down on the seats near the doors. He thought he might wait to see if the wind died down a little before he started walking home. At least then he had a little hope of not freezing to death._

_His legs swung and moved to the beat of the pop song playing on the radio. He never really told anyone, besides Rin, but he actually really liked cheesy pop songs. Sometimes he and Rin would sing them together in his bedroom. He always really enjoyed that. Time moved around him, pushed by the wind from outside. As he turned his head to the side he saw a women walking up to the door._

_It was his mother._

_Keeping the towel still wrapped around him, Sousuke stood up in shock to see her._

_“Oh, Sousuke!” She said. “I’m so glad you’re still here! I was worried you’d tried to walk home in this terrible weather. Once I got home I saw your swimming bag still in the living room, so I dashed right over.” She leaned down and ruffled his hair. “Let’s head home now. I will make you some hot chocolate when we get there,” She smiled._

_Sousuke smiled back. He grabbed her hand and walked with her. He knew lots of kids his age started to get embarrassed holding their parents’ hands, but he never felt that way. He always felt loved whenever he held his mother’s hand._

_He gripped it tighter as they walked outside and the wind crashed against his face and pulled at his towel. He let out a breath of relief once he was in the warm comfort of the car. His mother swiftly got in after him and turned the heater on. She ran her hands through her hair and started to reverse the car._

_Once they left the car park they drove right and Sousuke watched the world move past him. The trees and buildings all blurred into one. He felt the warmth of the car hold him close and caress his frosted body. On the corner they stopped at the lights. Along the sidewalk next to the car Sousuke saw a young boy walking against the wind. His little body shaking._

_He looked a little closer and noticed it was the boy from earlier. He looked down at the towel on his lap and then back up to the boy. He was wearing clothes, but they were obviously very wet. As was his still dripping hair. Sousuke shivered a little at the thought._

_It dawned on Sousuke that that boy had lied to him. The towel he had given Sousuke was not for his friend, it was his own. The boy’s face seemed both flushed and a little blue at the same time._

_Why would he have done that? He could have used that towel to dry himself. He could have gotten ill. Why did he give his towel to Sousuke, a complete stranger?_

_Sousuke was about to say something, to his mother and push down the window to speak to the boy. To give him back his towel, but suddenly the car started driving again and the boy was no longer in his sights. A guilty melancholic feeling washed over Sousuke._

_In the weeks and years to come he would come to forget about that boy though. That bright yellow towel would make it to the back of his cupboard and he would forget where he got it from._

_Sousuke did not know it, but he would meet that boy again, many times in his life. Being introduced as a stranger a few times, that boy would slowly become a person he cared about and wanted to be around. He would be constantly moved by that boy’s kindness. He would be shattered by that boy’s pains and sadness._

_What was he to that boy? Sousuke would not know._

_What was that boy to him? Sousuke would have a bit more of an idea._

_In the years to come that boy would be introduced as “Haru’s friend”, “Tachibana-san,” and “Makoto”._

_Makoto_

_Makoto_

_Makoto_

_Even though Sousuke would not remember that little boy and his random act of kindness, he would remember Makoto and his constant endeavours of love. Forever. Come separation or disagreement, he would still remember. Even if he forgot, a part of his heart would always remember._

***

He kept his eyes on the wall.

He knew if he tried to look at their faces he would crack. And he could not afford to crack. He had to remain strong. He could still speak to them if he did not look at them. He softly pulled and tugged at his fingers under the sleeves of his jumper.

“I’m not really against it,” His mother said hesitantly. “But I don’t really understand. Do you have another job?”

“No,” Makoto replied.

“Then where are you going to get the money? We’re not going to pay for it.”

Makoto took a deep breath. “H-he doesn’t want any money . . . he told me I could pay him back when I get back on my feet and I-I’m better.”

“And when will that be?” His mother pushed.

“I don’t know. But I want to get better, I do.”

His mother sighed. “Makoto . . .”

“I even called a place. I will be going there tomorrow, for my appointment. I really do want to get better. I p-promise,” Makoto said.

“I didn’t know about that.”

“I was going to tell you.”

His father shifted in the chair. “Don’t you think you’re just going to trouble this guy?”

Makoto shook his head. “I thought – I mean, yes, I did think that. B-but he assured me that I would be no problem.”

“Makoto, he’s just being nice. You’re just going to end up mooching off this guy for god knows how long.”

Makoto took another deep breath.

He could feel their eyes burning into him.

He could have said he felt uncomfortable. He could have said he felt ostracized, or scrutinized. He _could_ have. And he did feel that way. But he knew how it would all turn out, so he kept it inside of himself. Even before he started talking to them, he had had a good idea of how it would have turned out. So far he had not been too wrong. Makoto just kept his eyes focused on the back wall, to give the illusion of his undivided attention and strength. The situation made him feel as though he was bathing in salt. Everything was being drained out of him. Yet he had to endure it.

For one more minute.

For three more minutes.

For ten more minutes.

He had to endure it. He _had_ to.

“Makoto, from what you’ve said, it doesn’t sound like he lives in a very cheap area,” His mother piped in.

Makoto kept his eyes on the wall. He knew he would crack if he looked at his mother’s or father’s eyes at that point. He knew it.

He swallowed a lump in his throat. “And I know that . . . I-I really plan on paying him back.”

His father sighed loudly; it made Makoto’s heart shake. A lot of bad memories were associated with that sigh. “Let’s be realistic here, when is that actually going to happen? If the past amounts to any indication of the future, it’s _not._ You’re not going to get help, you’re not going to go to university, you’re not going to get a job, you’re not going to pay him back and you’re not going to get better. You’re just _not_ , Makoto.”

Makoto closed his eyes and took a shaky and deep breath. It felt like he had been pushed to the end of the line he had finally started to move in. Ripples of heads and faces were before him. He knew them all, yet he was never part of their waves. They moved and crashed in ways he could never join or understand – he could only he drowned by them.

They all stood so tall, with their knowing eyes and cunning grins.

With their _cliques_ ,

With their _pride_ ,

With their _inner circles_ and _inside jokes_.

They were all barricaded by poisons and thorns. If he took a single step forward he would be bruised. They taunted him with their smiles and laughs. They ridiculed his heart.

He believed them. He knew they felt the same way he did.

He was different to them. Fundamentally. Atomically. Yet, he had a little secret with them. A little truth they all believed in. They both knew he was not worth it. They both knew he did not deserve love or companionship.

He could not escape it.

He felt that was okay.

_Those who do not know,_

_Those who do not understand,_

_Were never meant to travel,_

_Beyond the shore of the sand._

Makoto continued to keep his eyes closed as he took long and deep breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out, in and out.

He heard the mumbled and fuzzed noises and words coming from his parents. _Fucking_ , and _anxiety_ , and _over this_ , and _do whatever he wants_.

He did not want to open his eyes. He was too petrified to. He was terrified of what his world would look like if he did. He heard someone stand up and walk away. He felt someone get up and sit next him. He wrapped his arms around himself and bent forward. He rested his head on his knees. He felt drool slip out of his mouth and blotch over his pants.

Makoto knew it would happen. He knew their reaction would be bad. A small part of him had hoped he would be wrong though. A small part of him had hoped that maybe he would have gotten undivided support. He knew he would do it without their support, but that did not mean he did not want it.

“Just breathe, Makoto,” His mother softly cooed. She touched his shoulder and he pulled away. He had shifted to the far side of the lounge. “Just breathe,” She repeated.

Makoto took a deep breath.

His throat felt rough and sore. He pushed through. He took another breath. In and out. In and out. In and out.

His mother did not leave his side. A part of him felt at ease because of that. As his breathing became more even and smooth Makoto leaned his head against the arm of the lounge. His face felt warm and wet. He slowly opened his eyes and continued to stare at the wall in front of him.

A few tears started budding in his eyes. “Do you hate me?”

His mother shifted and moved a little closer to him. “No, Makoto,” She said. “I don’t hate you. I love you.”

“ . . . Do you like me?” He sniffed. His eyes did not leave the wall.

“Of course I do,” She reassured.

“Are you disappointed in me?”

She hesitated before replying. Her voice was soft, yet held an unsure nature. “I wouldn’t say I am disappointed _in_ you. But I am disappointed _for_ you.”

Makoto squeezed his eyes shut. His tears still bled through them though; his body shook with him in small bursts. His grip around his arms tightened. His toes curled.

His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. “I think that’s normal though, Makoto. I envisioned so much for you when you were a child. I saw you taking on the world, not the world taking you on. I’m sad you have to suffer so much. I’m sad that I don’t know how to help you. I’m sad that I don’t know how to handle you. I feel like I constantly let you down as a mother. I’m frustrated that it couldn’t be easy for you or for me. I know I make a lot of mistakes with you, and I let my emotions control how I treat you more often then I should. But I’m only one person, and I don’t know how to understand what you are feeling. I’m disappointed that it had to be this way, but that doesn’t mean I hate you or I’m disappointed in you. I love you so much, my little baby boy. I love you as much as a mother possibly could. That doesn’t mean I don’t make mistakes though. I’m trying, I really am.”

Makoto lifted his head and turned it over to his mother. He saw that she was crying too. Her hair looked dried and frizzled and her cheeks were stained with sadness. He leaned in closer to her and let her pull him into a tight hug. He rested his head on her small and fragile shoulder. She patted his head as he sobbed.

He was so much taller and larger than his mother, he had been for a long time, yet in that moment, he was no longer an adult. He was once again the small boy who would sit on his mother’s lap and eat ice-cream on those hot summer days. He was the little boy who would go to her, crying, when he scraped his knee. He was that little boy who would stay up and read books with her. He was that little boy who lay in bed with her and talk about being an actor, or an astronaut or a teacher. He was that little boy that would bake with her on the weekends. He was that little boy who played with her belly when she was pregnant with his siblings.

In that moment he was her little boy once again.

He had not properly hugged her like that in many, many years. He felt so safe and content in that moment though. He felt warm and protected. He did not want it to end, yet he knew all good things did. Eventually. He pushed in a little closer and sighed contently. Makoto was not sure how long they had stayed like that. It felt both long and short at the same time. He did not mind though, not one bit.

“Makoto?” His mother whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Do you really want to go and live with this man?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Is he – I mean, are you two dating?”

A small smile stretched across Makoto’s face. “No, we’re not dating. He’s just my friend.”

His mother also smiled. “I’m glad you have another friend. I think you’ve needed a good friend for a while.”

“So do I,” Makoto said. His heart felt a little heavy though. It swelled at the absence of a human who used to occupy most of it. It helped to give him the reassurance and determination to fix it. He was not sure if he could, but he was sure he was going to try. He had to at least do that.

“I will talk to your father, so don’t worry, but although we won’t give you money for your new accommodation, we will pay for your appointments. Or whatever of it we need to. I’m really proud of you for going there. I’m proud of you for getting help. I understand it probably wasn’t very easy.”

“Thank you, mum,” Makoto replied. “But I don’t want to cause any problems between you and dad. I know how he feels about me and I know how you two get about it. I don’t want to be reasonable for that.”

“Makoto,” His mother said sadly. “Do you think your father hates you?”

“. . . I don’t know,” Makoto confessed. “He may not hate me, but he hates everything about me.”

“No, Makoto. I don’t think that’s true at all.”

Makoto pushed in a little closer. “I think it is.”

“Why?”

Makoto sighed. “You don’t even need to ask that. You know why. You see the way he talks to me or about me.”

She looked as if she would cry again. “I know he isn’t always the best. But I don’t think that’s because he hates you. He’s just not good at expressing his emotions.”

“He’s pretty good at expressing his emotion of anger.”

“Makoto,” His mother said. “I know how it seems. I do. But you must believe me when I say he is like me, he just makes mistakes.”

“No. You two are very different.”

“I don’t think we’re all that different.”

Makoto sat up and looked his mother in the eyes. “When you act the way you do I feel extremely upset. When _he_ acts the way he does, I start to hate myself even more. That’s the difference.”

“Is he really that bad?” She asked in slight disbelief.

“Yes.”

His mother sighed. “Let’s not talk about this right now. Tonight has been emotional enough as it is.” She stood up from the lounge and started walking towards the stairs. “I will help you pack up the rest of your things, okay? You were planning on leaving tonight, right?”

Makoto softly nodded his head as he began to stand up and head over to the stairs too. As he walked up he noticed his parents’ bedroom door was shut. He forced himself to look away. Once they opened his door his mother made a sour face.

“Lord, this room smells awful. Don’t you ever open the windows?” She said walking over to the back wall near his bed to do just that. The cool night air gushed in and spilled across the room like ink.

His room looked empty for the most part. Not that he ever had much in it to begin with. His bed was stripped bare and a lot of his little knick-knacks had been put into cardboard boxes. The only thing left was his empty glass fish bowl, which still sat near his bed. A large duffel bag sat in the middle of his room, half filled with clothes.

“You’ve done a pretty good job, Makoto. I suppose we just have to finish packing all of your clothes. Are these boxes going to fit in your new room?”

“I wasn’t actually planning on taking them. I was just going to take my clothes.”

“What? I mean, do what you want. But I figured you’d want to take a little of your stuff with you.”

Makoto shook his head. “I don’t feel the need.”

His mother just shrugged. She made her way over to his cupboard and pulled out a few of his clothes and folded them up to place in his duffel bag. He walked over and started doing the same. He felt a little odd in that moment. He thought those emotions and feelings were probably things he should have experienced when he was younger. He did for a little bit, he supposed, when he moved to Tokyo to go to university. But it felt different back then. It felt more like he was moving for a sleep over to a friend’s house. He thought that, deep down; he must have known he was not going to stay in university. He must have known he was going to hate it and not cope and fall apart. Maybe that was why it felt different. It felt more real and permanent. He wished he had been able to discover these emotions when he was younger. Maybe it would have felt better and more adventurous and less like giving up, if he had experienced it when he was younger. He never would really know though.

“You will be sure to call, right?”

Makoto turned his head. “Of course.”

Together they put the last of his clothes away and zipped the duffel bag up. His mother looked up at him and softly cupped his face in her hands. She rubbed her thumbs across his cheeks. Her petite gold bracelet slid down her arm. “I hope this doesn’t break us, Makoto. I really do. I don’t want this to be the last time you come into this house. I know we didn’t always make you feel welcomed or comfortable, but I don’t want this to be the end. I don’t. I want more time to fix all of my mistakes and I want more time to understand you. Promise this won’t be the end, okay?”

Makoto brought his hands up and held his mother’s. Tears prickled his eyes. “I promise I’ll try. I don’t want it to be the end either. I want to become the Makoto I know I can be. The Makoto that has been trapped in me for too long.”

A shaky smile came onto his mother’s face as she shook her head. “There’s no trapped Makoto. There’s just Makoto. He’s always been there, he’s there now too. I know you two will meet again one day. I know you will. We’ll look back into these years and laugh, I’m sure of it.”

A small and genuine smile bloomed across Makoto’s lips. He bent down and brought his mother into another hug. He felt so small in that moment. He took the memory of it and stored it into his heart. He knew that in the future he would need to hold onto that moment to find clarity and traction. He was holding onto that warm love for the rainy days he knew he was walking into.

Many times in Makoto’s life he felt as if he was trapped on a broken path. It was always littered with overgrown yellow and green weeds and chipped and lost signs of where to go. Whenever he tried to walk backwards to see where he had come from, to get a clearer idea of where he needed to go, he ended up more lost and disorientated then when he had first started. If he ever looked to his side he would always see how far everyone else seemed to be running into the horizon. He would fall into pot holes and lose sight of his way. No matter which turn he would take he felt like he was lost. Yet, a small spark in his heart told him he was going in the right direction. It was quiet and barely there. Yet he always listened to it. He had to. He would have gone insane if he had not. It was the one kind voice that was constant in his life of roads and corners and turns and falls and hills and slopes and confusion. He never felt like he was ever heading into the right direction in life – as if he would inevitably make a life for himself that consisted of nothing but wrong turns and mistakes – but that little spark made him feel as if maybe, just _maybe,_ he was actually going the right way. Yes, that way may not have had much purpose in the whole scheme of things, and maybe it was a path not many people walked, and maybe he would be lost more than he would be found, but maybe, it was still the right way.

“Will you at least say good-bye to your brother and sister?”

Makoto pulled back from her embrace. “I wasn’t planning on just leaving without saying anything, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what they know and I don’t want to further ruin the image of me they have in their head.”

“You don’t have to go into any big explanation,” His mother said. “Just say you’re moving out.”

“You never really told them anything about me, did you?”

She turned away from him. “ _I_ haven’t, no. I’m not sure what your father has said though. I know he never would have told them anything about you being a homosexual or anything –”

“I’m not a homosexual. Also, I don’t think that is a word people really use nowadays,” Makoto said. “I’m _asexual_ and homo _romantic_. And what, he just avoided telling them that? I mean, whatever, don’t tell them I’m asexual, god knows the rest of the world doesn’t care to remember that, but did he just not want them to know that I’m gay, but was okay telling them that my mind is screwed up?”

“I mean,” She began. “Makoto, saying it like that makes it sound really bad. He just didn’t want them to be influenced or anything – I know that’s not how it works though, don’t worry – but I suppose he wanted them to know why you were just at home the whole time,” She explained.

“I’m not really upset that he told them, but I’m concerned about how he told them. He probably made me seem like a horrible person.”

“I don’t know. You’ll just have to talk to them about that then, I guess.”

Makoto shook his head. “No, that’s okay. As you said before, this has been emotional night already. I just want to leave and get to sleep.”

She hummed in agreement. “Okay. I’ll let you go and talk with them then. Ren and Ran should be in their bedroom.”

“Thank you.” Makoto left his room and walked down the hall way to their room. He lightly knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Ren called out. His voice sounded loud over the sound of the music playing. Makoto walked in and saw Ren and Ran sitting on their beds doing homework. They were still in there school clothes. Some sweet snacks sat on their beds.

“Hey, Makoto,” Ran said, smiling up from her notes. “What’s up?” She stretched her arm out and turned the music off.

“Hey, you two. Nothing much,” Makoto walked over to sit down on their desk chair. “I just, um, I just wanted to tell you two that I’ll be moving out tonight. You’ll still get to see me and all. I’ll definitely come and visit. Good news, I guess you t-two don’t have share a room anymore,” He smiled, yet it looked very forced and strained.

Both and Ren and Ran sat up and looked at him cautiously.

“Did something happen?” Ren asked.

“No, no,” Makoto said. “I just . . . I just realised it’s time for me to move on and stuff. I mean, how many people do you see that are my age and still live with their parents?” He let out a dry laugh.

“I don’t think it’s that weird,” Ran commented.

“Neither do I,” Ren agreed.

Makoto smiled. “Thank you, really. But I still think it’s time for me to move on.”

“Is it because of something mum or dad said?” Ran asked.

“N-no, it’s nothing like that, it –”

“It is, isn’t it?!” Ren growled. “Screw them, Makoto. This is your home. You don’t have to go anywhere. They aren’t fair to you at all. Don’t think we haven’t noticed, because we have. Especially dad, he doesn’t treat you nice at all.”

Makoto stood up and gave Ren a tight hug and then gave one to Ran. “It’s not just that. I’m not very well. I need to go away for a bit to get some help. It’s just a lot of things, okay? Thank you for caring though, I will be okay though. I promise. You both have my number, so you can contact me whenever you want to. Okay?”

Ren and Ran both gave Makoto another tight hug. He hugged them back. “See you soon,” He said. “Love you.”

“Bye, Makoto,” They said in unison. He waved as he closed the door shut and made his way back to his own room. It truly looked empty. It felt like he had never lived in it. Did he ever live in that room though? He was always trapped in his mind in that room. He felt bitter-sweet as he walked into the middle of it to grab his bag. His eyes caught a glimpse of the fish bowl. His stomach felt tight and tough looking at it. The finger stains around the side of it were obvious. Dust stuck to the rim and inside of it. It felt like an anchor had taken a hold of him as he looked at it. Why had he kept it for so long? We could he not throw it away? Makoto gritted his teeth. He walked over to it and picked it up. His stomach dropped. He ignored it.

It felt light yet also so _heavy_ in his hand.

He could feel the air moving _around around around around_ it. He took a deep breath. Makoto threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and took it with the fish bowl out of his room. He took one last look at the room of his childhood and adulthood one last time before he closed the door.

With the night air running through it, and all of its previous possessions removed from it, his room sat there. The memoires of the past still floated around that room. That room that held late study night and sleep overs and tears and pain and happiness and sorrow. All those memories would forever be painted along the walls and spilled into the carpet. No matter who took that room in the future, or where Makoto went in life, that room would always be his room. Even if just in his memories. It was his room. And he had closed the door to it one last time in his life.

He had finally closed that door.

He slowly walked down the stairs, his arms still holding his duffel bag of the future, and his fish bowl of the past. He was the flickering conductor between the life of his past and of his future in that moment. He was the Makoto of the present. He had started to move forward.

He saw his mum waiting at the door once he got to the bottom.

“Good-bye, Makoto,” His mother smiled.

“Good-bye, mum,” He replied. He gave her a finale hug before opening the front door and stepping out into the world. Before he started to walk away from the house, he walked around the side of it and found the bin. He placed his duffel bag on the ground and opened the bin hesitantly. He looked intently at the glass fish bowl in his hands. He felt the weight of it and the shape of it. He felt the past of it.

He took a long and deep breath. He closed his eyes. He took another deep breath. As he opened them he slowly dropped it in to the bin. He heard it crack slightly. He took another deep breath before closing the lid of the bin and picking up his duffel bag.

Makoto looked up at his house and then started walking down to the footpath in front of it. Down near the gutter of the road he saw someone sitting down. Their black jacket and beanie would have hid them, had it not been for the flickering street lamp they sat under illuminating them. The man looked up and grinned a huge white grin at Makoto.

“’Bout fucking time you got out. God, I thought I’d have to sit here all night freezing my ass off. Mind you, I don’t have a lot to freeze off in the first place.”

Makoto moved over to him quickly. “What are you doing here, Sousuke?”

“Well, I thought it would be hard for you to bring _all_ of your stuff over to my house on the bus, so because I’m nice, I thought I’d help you by bringing over a car. Little did I know, you pack less than a child,” He said, pointing at Makoto’s single duffle bag.

“Oh,” Makoto said, slightly blushing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Sousuke smiled. “Nah, that’s okay. I’m here now, so it’s all good.” He leaned forward and grabbed Makoto’s bag from him and started walking up the street a little to his car.

“Wait – that’s okay, I can carry my own bag.”

“You will not,” Sousuke teased. “My mother actually raised a gentleman, _Makoto_.”

Makoto smiled and followed him up.

“I didn’t know you had a car,” Makoto commented.

“I don’t. I have my licence, but I never actually bought a car. This is my mother’s,” He winked.

Makoto walked around to the other side and sat down next to Sousuke. After Sousuke shut the door and started the engine Makoto could have sworn he saw a smug smile tugging on the corners of Sousuke’s mouth.

The streets were quiet as they drove through them. All the way to their destination Makoto and Sousuke said nothing to each other, yet that silence felt like a secure hug to Makoto.

As they walked up the stairs to Sousuke’s apartment Makoto heard the boisterous chatter of the people living next to Sousuke.

“Don’t mind them,” Sousuke said unlocking the door. “They know it’s the weekend tomorrow, so that’s why they are being so noisy. They’re normally super quiet.”

As they walked in Sousuke flicked on the lights and took off his shoes.

“Thank you for having me over,” Makoto said.

Sousuke turned to him and grinned. “Don’t mention it. Would you like me to take you to your room?”

Makoto nodded his head.

They walked down the hallway to a small room next to the lounge room.

“It’s not much. But it has a bed and all. It even has a cupboard,” Sousuke laughed.

“No, it’s perfect. Really, thank you.”

Sousuke patted him on the back. “I’m glad to hear it. Oh, also, just to let you know Rin will be coming over in a little while, don’t worry, Haru won’t be with him.”

Makoto rubbed the back of his neck. “Just for a visit, or . . . ?”

Sousuke laughed. “Yeah, just for a visit. We need to talk about a few things, and nothings gonna happen if we don’t talk about it, you know?”

“O-oh, yes. Yes of course.”

Sousuke started walking out of Makoto’s room, and Makoto followed him.

“See the room down there?” Sousuke asked, pointing.

Makoto nodded his head.

“I work from home, which means I use that room as my office. If the door is closed it means I can’t be disturbed, either because I’m busy or because I’m having a moment and need some alone time, okay?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Great,” Sousuke smiled. “Have you had dinner yet?” He asked as he entered the kitchen.

“Yes, I’ve already eaten, thank you.”

Sousuke went to the cupboard and pulled out some instant noodles. “That’s alright. You don’t mind if I eat, do you?”

“No, no not at all. Please, go ahead,” Makoto said happily.

Makoto stood in somewhat of a daze as Sousuke moved around his kitchen and got his meal ready. He felt both surreal and out of place. He did not know how long this arrangement would last or how their lives would blend together. What if Makoto messed it up? If he snapped off a little part and their whole structure came crashing down? He wanted to trust himself, but he could not. He had broken too many things in his past to not be nervous over what he may or may not do.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“What?” Makoto asked as he turned his head to Sousuke’s.

“Your appointment – tomorrow. Are you nervous?”

“Oh – um, yeah. I think I am. I’m honestly just trying not to think about it too much.”

“You’re still going, right?”

Makoto twiddled his thumbs. “O-of course.”

Sousuke walked over to Makoto and placed his hand on his shoulder. Makoto slightly shuddered. “I know its nerve wracking, but trust me; you’ll get so fucking much out of it. It’ll really help you.”

Makoto lifted his head and looked into Sousuke’s eyes. He was not sure what he saw, but it felt like strength. He could feel how strong Sousuke had been and for how long. He saw the world being shoved and moved by him. Sousuke, Makoto could tell, was not the type of man who let the world roll over him in salty waves. He was the type of man who would hold his breath and push a fist through the ice that blocked him. Makoto really admired that about him. He admired that strength. He often wished his could have had just a pinch of it. He knew he would never be as strong as Sousuke. He knew he would never be as strong as Haru. They were two people who had been dealt death by the world, yet they kept on pushing. Makoto did not feel he was that type of person. He felt like he was the type of person who crumbled and fell at the slightest movement of the wind. Was that a bad thing?

Makoto did not know.

He could not see his world from skyscrapers or mountains. He could not see the world from up high. He saw the world from the level of a footpath, blocked by the waves of heads in front of him. His world was clogged and crowded; but it was his world, and he wanted to learn to desire to see it again.

“Thank you, Sousuke.”

Sousuke grinned at Makoto. “Just don’t go in there with any expectations and you’ll be fine. Expectations will do nothing but drown you.”

Makoto nodded his head in agreement.

Time slipped past them. Sousuke had his dinner. They had made their way to the couch. Makoto could not remember exactly what had happened or what had been said. They had moved in a blur that muddled with time. It felt as if Makoto was being lulled through a dream that was not his own. He felt both free and locked down. It was an odd sensation. Yet he was not apprehensive towards it. He let it pull him and tug at him. He tried to keep his mind out of the dirty sludge of the past or the future and just focus on the present – perhaps that was why he thought of nothing much. His mind did not know how to occupy itself when it was not dreading. Discomfort and dread where still there, but Makoto tried so hard to numb it out so he could enjoy the company of Sousuke. He was petrified of saying or doing anything that would disrupt the flow and nature of Sousuke and his world. He was scared of himself and his tendency to ruin anything good that passed him by. He thought that maybe if he stayed in his small bubble of the world, he could enjoy the view without corrupting anything.

“You alright there?”

Sousuke’s words dragged Makoto out of his mind. “Y-yeah. I’m okay.”

“Makoto,” Sousuke said moving a little closer to him. “You know you’re a fucking awful liar, right?”

Makoto averted his eyes and looked down at his hands. He could feel things splintering. Sousuke leaned closer to him – Makoto could smell his soap and feel the heat of his body. He felt his stomach clench and his palms get sweaty. He softly rubbed his knees together.

“What’s wrong?” Sousuke asked.

Makoto kept his eyes down. “I-I don’t know.”

“Is it about tomorrow?”

Makoto shrugged.

“Would you like me to go with you tomorrow?”

Makoto shook his head.

“Has it got to do with your family?”

Makoto shook his head.

Sousuke hummed. “Do you need a hug?”

Makoto went still.

“Makoto?” Sousuke whispered.

He looked up at Sousuke. He felt a pull of two directions: what he thought he should say and what he wanted to say. He softly nodded his head.

Sousuke laughed and leaned in even closer. Makoto felt his large and warm hands grip his shoulders. Before he could even resist Sousuke had turned him to side and pulled him in. For a while Makoto simply sat there, letting Sousuke hold him, then he started to bring his own hands up and wrap them around Sousuke. He felt both uncomfortable and at peace. He wondered what it might have felt to be held by Sousuke like this when they were both teenagers. Sousuke was much larger back then, he was well toned and covered in muscles from all of his training. Makoto wondered what it would have felt like to have those muscles against his own. His own body was nowhere near close to what it used to be. Neither of their bodies were. Time, age and life had taken what they were and shaped them into something new. In that moment Sousuke felt broad and warm and stable, yet he also felt small and bony. Makoto new that he too felt very different. He was soft and round, nothing like what he used to be. Which version of himself was better? Which version did he prefer? Which version did Haru prefer?

Which version would Sousuke prefer if he had gotten to fully know both of them?

Makoto turned his head to the side and saw their disoriented and blurred reflection in the television screen across from them. They truly were so different. Besides their height, Makoto could not find any similarity between them. Why would Sousuke go so far for him? Why did he want to be friends with Makoto?

Makoto pushed further into Sousuke and felt Sousuke’s grip get tighter. Makoto breathed in and could smell Sousuke. He had a very distinct yet subtle smell to him. It was not overbearing or too intense, it was subtle and warm, yet it was very much a smell Makoto associated with Sousuke.

He wondered if he had a scent of his own.

Makoto closed his eyes.

He shot them back open when a knock at the door rang through the house.

Sousuke sighed. “And that would be Rin.”

Makoto sat up and let Sousuke stand.

“I’ll just go to my room,” Makoto said.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Sousuke smiled back. “We’ll try to keep the noise down.”

Makoto nodded his head and walked behind Sousuke, before walking into his own room. Once he shut the door he heard the muffled noises of Rin and Sousuke talking. He went over to his duffel bag and pulled out his pyjamas. The air felt cold and chilling around his body as he stripped. As he got under the covers he just laid there. Taking in all that had happened. He could hear a little of what Rin and Sousuke were saying, but he tried as hard as he could to block it out. He did not want to be rude.

Until he heard Sousuke raise his voice slightly. “Sometimes I don’t want to be the bigger person! I hold onto the past because I like it and it gives me purpose. I don’t care if it’s unhealthy or if I need to be responsible and move on. The future makes me want to vomit. I like the past and I feel no shame in living in it. I’m not hurting anyone. I’ll move on when I want to.”

Makoto started to get out of his bed, concerned about where the conversation was going. He stopped once he heard the soft sound of crying. Followed by a string of choked apologizes. He felt wrong doing so, but he moved over to the wall of his room that was closest to the lounge room. He pressed his ear against while placing a hand against his exposed ear. He listened closely. He did not want to interfere where he was no needed, but he wanted to make sure both Rin and Sousuke were okay.

He could only really hear vague voices. Even then it was soft and hard to decipher. He could not understand it, but he did understand Sousuke, with his thick and determined voice. He heard the broken sentences of _thank you_ and _it’s been so hard_ and _I didn’t know what to do_ and _I was scared of losing you_ and _I love you_ and _you’re my best friend_ and _don’t leave me_ and _you’re my brother_ and _are we going to be okay_ and _I’m glad we could talk_ and _thank you thank you thank you thank you._

Makoto walked back to his bed, content. He was sure they would be okay. Of course they would. _Of course they would_. First and foremost Rin and Sousuke were friends that had survived the world together. Despite the lumps and bumps Makoto knew they would be okay.

He knew come what may, Rin and Sousuke would always be okay.

He knew it, and it made him happy.

He got under the covers of his bed and closed his eyes. The cool blankets wrapped around his body. For the first time in a while Makoto fell asleep quickly and was tangled in it until morning.

***

The sound of a coffee maker running woke Makoto up.

His eyes felt groggy yet he did not feel tired. Sitting up he stretched and rubbed his hands through his hair. As he left his room and walked into the kitchen he saw Sousuke making two cups of coffee. Makoto froze when he noticed Sousuke was wearing nothing but his underwear.

Sousuke turned around. “Oh, good morning, Makoto.”

“. . . Aren’t you cold?”

“Hmm?” Sousuke raised his eyebrow.

Looking away Makoto pointed at what Sousuke was wearing.

A cheeky smile spread across Sousuke’s lips. “Nah. I’m a bit of a hot bod,” He winked.

Makoto said nothing about his remark, but smiled and walked into the kitchen and grabbed one of the cups of coffee.

“Did everything go okay last night?” He asked Sousuke.

“Yeah, it did actually. I think we both really needed it,” He smiled. “I’m glad we spoke over things. We were just stuck in a weird place for a while, but last night really helped.”

“I’m glad then,” Makoto said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“So am I. I think I was at a point where I was trying really hard to be enough, which was just really fucking unhealthy.”

Makoto looked at Sousuke intently. “A-lot, um, a lot of the time, no matter what you, or just anyone I suppose, do, you’ll never do or be ‘enough’ for someone else. That doesn’t mean you can’t be enough for yourself though . . .” Makoto trailed off, staring back down at the cup in his hands.

Sousuke’s eyes went wide before he smirked softly at Makoto. “That’s a little bit of the kettle calling the pot black.”

Makoto smiled. “Heh, yeah.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Sousuke grinned.

The two of them continued to drink their coffee in the cold of the morning. Both getting ready to take another step along their paths in life. Hoping that they could meet again at the cross roads to share dinner together and talk about their day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this chapter! It means so much to me!! :)   
> Yay, Rin and Sousuke were able to talk!! Also I am so happy I got to write a bit more of Ran and Ren, they are so much fine.
> 
> See you all next chapter! I hope you all have an amazing day!! :) <3


	13. Is Hell A Place Of Our World Or Of Our Hearts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: This is the updated/edited version. Holy moly! There were sooo many mistakes, I could not leave it. I thought I had fixed them all, but I was reading over it this morning and realized that was not the case, ahaha. I suppose that it was bound to happen since I did the original edit while sleepily. Please, enjoy the edited version. :) Let's hope I got them all this time! :) (I probably did not though, ahaha)
> 
> Hello hello everyone!! Thank you so, so much for reading this chapter. It really means a lot to me!  
> I am sorry this chapter is a little late, but honestly, I am a little surprised I got it finished when I did, I've been super bust lately. Ahaha. But I am also really happy that I managed to make this a longer chapter. :3  
> For a little special notice please read the end note. :D <3  
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS)  
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Depressive Episode  
> \- Small Anxiety attack  
> \- Hospital Mention  
> \- Negative thoughts on weight  
> \- Mentions of self harm  
> \- Mentions of anorexia 
> 
>  
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, but merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in these situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day and enjoy the chapter!! :)

_The sun warmed their skins._

_Makoto could feel the cool touch of the water slide over his legs as they dangled into the pool. The trees swayed with the wind and pushed and pulled shadows over his body. The wind tickled his neck with kisses and ran a hand softly through his hair. The air smelt of nothing, yet it also smelt of something. His head of resting on his folded up school jumper as his back lay against the heated concrete ground. He felt joined to an invisible world that he thought he was the only occupant of. Makoto’s whole body felt tingly and calm to the experience._

_He was at peace._

_Rei and Nagisa, he knew, were sitting behind him against the metal fence. He could hear them softly chattering to each other and laughing, it did not disturb him though. Their voces of happiness blended into to the mellow whispers of the world. Haru had been next to him, also dangling his feet into the water and feeling the embrace of the warm air. Makoto felt Haru’s shoulder touching his own. As their feet moved in the water, they too, would sometimes brush each other. Makoto was fixed in an odd feeling of being tied down to earth while also floating away. He enjoyed that feeling. It was not one he had the pleasure of feeling an awful lot. It felt like calmness._

_Since entering his final year of school, ‘calmness’ was not something his mind or body was overly accustomed to. He played his role and did his part; he acted as calm as he could, so he would not start a chain reaction of fear for his friends, but inside his body and mind were never truly calm. He did not know who he was, how he was, why he was or what he was. He knew nothing in terms of his placement and worth, and that frightened him more than he ever, at the time, cared to admit. Although he knew his friends were also lost and going through the modern ritual of self-discovery, he also knew he was still many steps behind them. He had a plan, and he knew what he was going to do: He was going to go to university and get a versatile degree so he could work in a good company and get enough money to leave home. That was the plan and scaffold life had given him, it seemed to work for other people, so Makoto took it, no questions asked._

_The only problem was there were questions. Makoto had had many, many questions on that plan._

**Question One:** How long will it take?

 **Question Two:** Will it give me happiness?

 **Question Three:** How does happiness work?

 **Question Four:** Is it the right choice?

 **Question Five:** Will I be making a mistake?

 **Question Six:** Will not be doing that be the real mistake?

 **Question Seven:** What do I want?

 **Question Eight:** What do I need?

 **Question Nine:** Will Haru stay with me?

 **Question Ten:** Do I even have a choice in the happiness of my future?

_Makoto’s mind was constantly at battle, so he was not used to feeling calm._

_So he revelled in that moment, he soaked up all the calmness it offered him. He craved that state of calmness more then he knew. That calmness was a blessing and long-awaited. The smell of the pool had pulled itself over his body. A smile tugged against his face. The sun prickled against his warmed skin and he pushed his foot a little closer to Haru. He felt Haru push back._

_It felt like they were both trying to hold onto something they were not aware was slipping through their fingers and their hearts._

_Makoto could hear the continued giggles and murmured chatter of Rei and Nagisa behind him. He was glad they were not as tense as himself and Haru. He though they were lucky, since they both still had an extra year of school after he and Haru left. Makoto often felt as if he would have given anything to stay in school just a little longer. Just a week or month longer. It was a system and world he had become so accustom to. It felt both like a prison and palace of sanction. He wanted nothing more than to be able to rip off his shackles and be free. He also wanted nothing more than to be able to stay and not have to take control of his own life._

_The world was a demanding and daunting place, and he never felt prepared enough to enter it. There were no cards he would be able to play. It left him motionless._

_If someone achieves something in their youth, it is seen as extraordinary, but as they become older it merely becomes an expectation – Makoto knew that, though a large part of him was in denial and had hope it would turn out differently for himself. Though it still scared him. He knew it was a trap everyone fell into, not just himself._

_Individuality was stripped._

_He also knew people were not as original as they all thought they were. To a degree, Makoto believed everyone was simply carbon copies of their social desires. He did not know if it was a good thing or not._

_Some people possibly thought it was._

_“Makoto?” Haru asked. His shoulder pushed in a little closer. Makoto smiled._

_“Hmmm?”_

_“What’s on your mind?”_

_Makoto was a tad shocked. He was not used to Haru initiated questions like that; he did not even know what sparked it, since they were just lying around. He was not going to argue though._

_“I don’t think an awful lot.”_

_“Aren’t you nervous about next month?” Haru asked._

_“Not really,” Makoto lied. “Are you?”_

_Haru opened his eyes and looked intently at Makoto. It felt as if he was hiding behind some barrier that he was desperately trying to break through. Waves were crashing and pummelling against the cliff of uncertainty in his mind. Eventually something would have to give. Something would fall or crack or begin to erode, yet Haru was still in denial. He did not want to submit to the inevitable. Yet, he also did not want to fight it. He was unsure of what he wanted, yet he could taste it. He could taste his unsung desires and hopes for himself. Many were unattainable and contradicted themselves. Haru was nervous to do or say anything that might disrupt the world he had built for himself. The dark and self-isolated years of his past still littered his hopes for the future. More than anything else in life, Haru feared reverting back to who and what he was when he was younger. Two years ago had been when he finally started to stop, and in the whole scheme of things he knew that was not a long time. He knew that. But when one is young and inhabitations are all the lights available, two years can feel like a lifetime. And it truly did for Haru. He knew who he was when he was younger was himself, and the intrusive thoughts that lingered in his heart back then had never fully left him, but when he looked back, he always felt as if he were watching a film of another’s person’s life. Fear and resentment built out of the dirt of denial blocked him from truly acknowledging who he was. All he knew for certainty was that he never wanted the life that plagued his nightmares to once again become a reality._

_That sensation left him feeling lost. Haru knew what he wanted, but he did not know how to articulate it or if he was worthy of obtaining it._

_“No, I don’t think so. I’ll figure something out.” He wished he could have just stayed in that moment and not be expected to grow up or change or face himself. He wanted the cool chill of the water to run over his legs forever. He wanted to hear the voices of his friends talking forever. He wanted the freedom and liberation of youth to last forever. He wanted Rin’s number to stay in his phone forever._

_He wanted Makoto to stay strong and sure forever._

_Haru needed that certainty and normality of his life. He needed to know that all he had worked towards had been for something. He wanted to keep moving up and leave the broken and wrist slit version of himself in the past. He wanted to keep moving up, even if he did not know where it would take him._

_He just never wanted to slip back down. He did not want to ever be seen as weak again. Especially not by himself._

_“You’re still young, Haru. You’ve got time to make mistakes and figure stuff out. Actually,” Makoto said, “I take that back. It doesn’t matter how old you are, you can just take your time with all of it. There is no expiration date to finding what makes you happy.”_

_Haru softly smiled at Makoto. “I hope I discover all the answers then.”_

_Makoto laughed. “I hope you do too. Though I wouldn’t get your hopes up, there are a lot of answers out there, and not all of them are nice or easy to find.”_

_“I hope I find all the happy ones then. Like the secrets to love and the world and joy. I think that’d be nice.”_

_“It would be. You’ll have to tell me all about them when you find them, Haru. I don’t think I’ll have as much luck as you.”_

_Haru’s leg brushed over Makoto’s. “Don’t say that,” He said. “You’re good at finding lots of things. You’ll probably have all the answers before I do.”_

_Makoto wiggled his back to move a little closer to Haru, and sat up, leaning against his arm. “I wouldn’t say I find things. I just have a lot of opinions on things.”_

_“Same thing,” Haru retorted._

_“I don’t think they are,” Makoto shook his head, smiling._

_“Well, I do. I like hearing your opinions on things. They help me figure stuff out for myself.”_

_“I didn’t know that . . . I’m glad I am able to help you in that way then. I honestly never thought what I said had that much weight to it.”_

_“I think it has always had a lot of weight,” Haru replied. “You don’t have to say a lot for something to have a lot of meaning or weight.”_

_A sheepish smile spread across Makoto’s face. His cheeks hurt from being tugged._

_“Rei and I are going to leave,” Nagisa said. Makoto sat up and turned around to see Rei and Nagisa standing. Their faces were red and their eyes were bright. “There is a movie that is screening in town and we don’t want to miss it. You two don’t mind locking up the club room do you?”_

_Makoto shook his head. “That’s fine. I hope you two enjoy the movie. See you next week.”_

_Nagisa grinned. “See you both next week!”_

_“See you next week,” Rei said as he and Nagisa walked off._

_Haru lazily put his arm up in the air and waved them good-bye without saying anything._

_Once they left Makoto continued to kick his feet through the water before turning back to Haru. “I suppose we should probably get going sometime too, huh?”_

_“I want to stay here for a little longer . . . I don’t want to go just yet.”_

_Makoto chuckled. “That’s okay. We can stay a little longer; I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”_

_He did pull his feet out of the water due to them becoming cold though. Padding wet footprints across the concrete he walked over to his towel and began drying them. He looked past the metal fence down at the grass fields. The boys and girls from the soccer club were doing laps of the field. The evening sky was splashed behind them. Some of them were laughing and pushing each other as their coach shook her head at them._

_It was a peaceful image yet it made Makoto feel uneasy and melancholic. He felt like he was losing something, or that he had already lost something. He knew most of those people down there. He would see them eating lunch together or studying together or going shopping together or arriving to school together. A lot of them would be leaving when he and Haru ended up leaving. Then what would become of all of them? They would all become nothing more but a piece of the system. Many of them would probably go off to university to study something they had convinced themselves they liked and were passionate about, but would secretly loathe. Maybe a few of them would go straight into work. Some of them would find love and have a child. A couple of them may even get divorced or pass away in the distant future. Makoto doubted many, if any of them, would actually continue to kick a soccer ball around with friends. Life would end up demanding too much out of them. He knew it would. He knew the years of their youth would be ripped from their hearts and bring nothing but pain in the future._

_Adolescence, he knew, would turn out to be nothing more than an addictive curse._

_The society around them force fed them the polluted ideas that the world would only reside in the palm of their hands while they were young. As people grow older they try with all their might to re-capture what they were or what they once had when they were younger. When someone is young they push and pull to be seen as older than what they are, but once they do become old, which will turn out to be most of their lives, they are told they cannot because they are too old. They cannot experience first love. They cannot learn a new skill. They cannot try again. They cannot feel a certain way. All because they had hit the expiration date for potential. At least, that was how Makoto felt the world saw it._

_Adulthood was nothing more than a jaded collection of cannot and will not and should not._

_Adulthood was nothing more than a bowl that trapped people in their regrets._

_Makoto was not looking forward to that. He was not sure how he was supposed to cope in those conditions when he knew nothing about himself._

_Though at the time he was mostly in denial about it, Makoto could feel somewhat where he was going to end up in life. He knew he would not have what his friends and family wanted for him. He had felt it for years but never knew how to deal with it. It was like a bomb that he would not know when it would explode. For the most part he tried to hide his emotions and concerns, not wanting to burden the people around him, but they always made him feel like black soot was clogging up his heart._

_It led to the resentment of himself. He knew one day he would pop. He was sure of it. Makoto just hoped that he could at least make it through the end of high school and university before his body gave way. He wanted to at least fit into the mould society had constructed for him before it all went to hell. He wanted to hold on as long as he could._

_Denial was a strong glue that his well-being depended on._

_He walked away from the fence back to Haru who was starting to pull his legs out of the pool._

_“Do you mind if we go to the change room before we go?”_

_“No, that’s okay,” Makoto replied. His mind was still drifting._

_He followed Haru as he walked out of the gate and down the steps._

_The flickering noise of the light being switched on rung through the room before it burst brightly with light. Makoto sat down on the wooden bench and started putting his shoes on while Haru got changed out of his school clothes. Makoto made sure to keep his head down and give Haru privacy._

_“Makoto?” Haru mumbled._

_“Hmmm?”_

_“C-can I ask you something?”_

_Makoto wanted to lift his head up, so he could see Haru’s expression, but he kept his head down still. “Of course.”_

_Haru took a deep breath and squeezed the white shirt that was in his hands. His back felt cold being exposed to the air. “I understand if this doesn’t make much sense. But, how do you stay in contact with someone if you aren’t sure they will want to stay in contact with you?”_

_Makoto let the words roll over his mind. He did not want to come off as presumptuous, but he felt he could not answer Haru without some form of clarity. “Are you talking about Rin?”_

_“Was it that obvious?” Haru winced._

_“No . . . I mean, you just aren’t very close with an awful lot of people. So I just assumed. I’m sorry.”_

_“No, it’s alright. It’s not like you’re wrong or anything.”_

_“Why do you think Rin won’t want to stay in contact with you?” Makoto asked. He was genuinely curious. He had always felt like Haru and Rin worshiped the ground each other walked on._

_“I don’t know,” Haru sighed. He put is shirt on and sat down next to Makoto. Their shoulders touched. “I’ve just been thinking about it a lot lately. I wanted to talk about it earlier, but I didn’t want Nagisa and Rei to hear.”_

_“Why?”_

_“I-I’m not very good at showing this side of myself to people . . .”_

_“I can understand that, but you know that they would never think any differently of you, right?” Makoto asked._

_Haru softly nodded his head._

_“Have you, you know, spoken to Rin about this?”_

_“No! I couldn’t do that. He would think I was so un-cool if I did that.”_

_“I don’t think he would, Haru. Rin loves you. He’s not going to stop being your friend just because you’re insecure about something. Everyone needs reassurance every-so-often.”_

_“I could never do that though. Not while he’s always hanging around fucking Sousuke all the time. I don’t need to be compared to him.”_

_Ah._

_Makoto understood. He supposed Haru was not someone who was used to feeling jealous over things. He probably did not know how to respond to it._

_“Haru,” Makoto began. “Rin will not compare you to Sousuke. And I’m sure Sousuke has a lot of insecurities too. It’s not a bad thing to talk about them. Rin may never know if you don’t talk to him.”_

_“It’s just all so confusing . . .”_

_“Love normally is,” Makoto said softly._

_“What is the right way to go about this then?” Haru asked. There was a distinct sound of desperation in his voice. “I don’t know the proper way to feel or act. I don’t even know what I want Rin to do . . . It’s just so confusing and I’m scared. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel within myself, let alone how I actually feel anything else.”_

_Makoto turned to face Haru and noticed the strain in his body and face. “Love is a tricky thing. I do not think there is a proper way to love. I do not think there is a right way to be loved. It is something that does not make any sense and will always make someone feel isolated or sad. There is a pain in your stomach that may never leave; a pain that will remind you of your growth and your past. Despite what people tell you, it is okay to hold onto that pain. It is okay to crave it. Just do not let it consume you, because you will regret it. Instead, find that one thing within yourself to keep you grounded,” Makoto slowly explained. “Because with that you will be able to find love for yourself, and maybe, maybe the love of others will not sting so much. Maybe it will not break your strength so much . . .” Makoto pulled on his fingers and stared at the ground. “Although, I wonder if anyone has ever truly found that, because for all the time we spend with ourselves, the love of others always tastes better compared to our own. Maybe love is just meant to stay confusing. Maybe love is something that will forever remain a mystery; and that is why so many people are fragile to its touch,” He whispered._

_Haru’s eyes looked dewy and wet. He moved closer to Makoto and placed his head on his shoulder. Makoto wrapped his arm around him. Despite the heat and weight of Haru against him, in that moment Makoto felt extremely and unexplainably lonely._

_A part of Makoto felt as if he were looking out at what could have been and what should have been. It was as though he were brushing his fingers through the wavy fragments of the past. It made him feel dirty._

_It made Makoto feel as if he had manipulated his way into love._

_He was used to feeling that way though. It saddened him that Haru was apparently feeling something similar._

_He did not know at the time, but that small little moment was a catalyst to everything else that would fall – at least, in his mind, Makoto would dub it as so. Logically he knew that no one thing caused anything to change or shift, and that an accumulation of small little things and uncontrollable emotions that turned everything around. It was easier for Makoto to place blame on one event though. One event he could say was what things turned so bitter, even if it was not the truth._

_“Would you come with me?” Haru asked._

_“When you go to speak to Rin?”_

_Haru nodded._

_“Haru,” Makoto began, hesitantly. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea . . . I mean, you know I’d do anything to help you, but I don’t think me going would help you an awful lot. I think this is something you have to talk to Rin about by yourself.”_

_Haru shook his head. “I-I don’t think I can. I need you with me.”_

_Makoto sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. His body ached to cave at Haru’s will; he hated denying him of anything. But he knew if he caved this time it would not help him in anyway. “Haru, I really want to help you, but just think about it this way: if Rin were feeling insecure with his friendship with you, and came to talk to you about it, but he brought Sousuke along with him? I don’t think that would make you feel very good, would it?”_

_Haru pushed harder against Makoto’s shoulder. “ . . . I don’t think it would, no.”_

_“I’ll walk you to Rin’s house if you’d like though,” Makoto smiled sadly._

_“Would you?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Thank you, Makoto,” Haru whispered._

_“T-that’s okay.”_

_The rest of the evening blended into one. Makoto barely remembered any of it. He just followed the motions and played the part he designated to himself. He remembered locking up and getting on the bus, but apart from that he deleted the world around him._

_Once he and Haru reached Rin’s neighbourhood they stood under the street light. Even in the dulled light Makoto could tell how nervous Haru was and how red his face was. It broke his heart, but for all the wrong reasons. He hated to admit it, but his heart was full of prickly envy in that moment. Makoto wanted to ignore it, but he could not. It burned his insides and incarcerated his soul. He hated himself so much in that moment. He felt spoilt and entitled and greedy and lonely and bitter and abandoned and awful and despicable and unworthy._

_More than anything else, he felt like himself, and that disgusted him the most._

_“Thank you for coming with me, Makoto,” Haru whispered._

_Makoto smiled. “That’s okay. Trust me; it’ll all turn out alight. You’ve made it out to be worse in your head.”_

_“Heh, yeah, I do that a lot. Don’t I?” Haru leaned up and pulled Makoto into a hug._

_“Just a little,” Makoto mumbled. He bent his head down and placed it on top of Haru’s head. He felt the warmth of Haru pressed against his skin. It felt right and warm._

_It felt like a home that was never his. And that he knew he would never have._

_As Haru let go he looked up at Makoto and gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you next week?”_

_“Yeah, I’ll see you next week” Makoto replied._

_Haru gave him a small wave as he walked away. The dismal colours of the night ate Haru up as he got further and further away from Makoto. Keeping his head down he walked away to go home._

_He took the longest way home he could, because he was scared that once he was alone in his room the weight of his feelings would become too real and too heavy to bare._

_He walked past a small café where the smells of chocolates and coffee leaked out onto the street. Makoto did not know it at the time, but sitting alone in the booth closets to the window, was a boy whose heart was also being strained for the same reasons as his own. In that moment they felt alone and abandoned, but that was an emotion that in the future would join them._

_Their pains and struggles would not spread through their entire lives. They hoped._

_A similar question plagued both of their minds that night though:_ Is Hell a place of our world or our hearts?

***

Makoto’s feet pushed against the ground as the music from his headphones pumped through his ears. His body felt tense and nervous. With every step he took forward he wanted to take ten backwards. He knew he had to go though. He knew he had to get help – and his desires to get better were stronger than his fear of going. So he went.

He pushed through his fears and continued to walk.

The streets were occupied by a few people, but not so many that he felt suffocated or itchy with insecurities. The sky was a light grey and the clouds were spread across it like spilt milk. A slight wind was apparent, but he could not feel it too much. The smell of cigarettes would be pushed against his face every-so-often. It occasionally blended together with the smell of bread and fruit from the bakeries and small cafes along the footpath. It oddly reassured him and grounded him in the moment. It was not the most pleasant of smells, but it proved to him where he was going and what he was trying to accomplish for himself; it also helped to distract him from the feeling of fear and unease that lined his stomach. Makoto took whatever he could to help him continue taking the steps he needed to get to the mental health organisation.

A little up head he saw the large black sign that indicated the facility. He felt a lump in his throat, but he kept on walking. As he got closer and closer the pain that had encapsulated his whole body had yet to cease – if anything it had gotten worse. Makoto could feel himself sweating. His hands were clammy and his neck felt prickly. He ran his thumb up and down his knuckles and took deep breaths to try and calm himself down. Makoto could feel his face becoming flushed. He knew he was not falling, but his legs felt as if they were losing traction and as if they would snap if he took a single step forward. He could feel the gaze of a few people walking past looking at him. It made him feel worse, but he tried with everything he had to ignore it.

With slightly shaky legs, Makoto walked down the concrete steps to the large metal door. A few cigarettes butts were scattered along the ground. He took in deep breathes. _In_ and _out_ , _in_ and _out_ , _in_ and _out_ , _in_ and _out_.

He gripped the door.

He could feel its cold texture.

It felt so light yet so heavy in his hand.

He squeezed it tightly.

He took a deep breath and slowly pushed it open.

As Makoto walked in he was greeted with a particular smell. It did not smell awful, but it was unfamiliar, yet it also felt like déjà vu. He pulled out his head phones and folded them up into his pocket. He could hear the sound of the radio playing softly in the background. The pop music made him feel a bit more at home and less like a fish out of water. The walls were scattered with posters about many different things. Some were showing the signs of depression and anxiety; others were displaying information on seminars for people living with a loved one who had a mental illness, and small techniques that they could apply. There was a white table covered with pamphlets. There were lounges and chairs that were all along the walls and many doors with numbers and either ‘occupied’ or ‘vacant’ signs on them.

Pulling his eyes away from the walls, Makoto slowly walked over to the reception desk. A man and women both sat behind there, typing away at their computers. Lots of documents and filing folders were against the wall behind them.

The women looked up from her computer and saw Makoto. “Hello,” She said. She smiled softly at him.

“H-hello,” He sputtered. He looked down at her desk, so he could avoid direct eye contact with her. He tugged at his jumper, though he felt she was not fazed by him. “My name is Makoto T-Tachibana . . . I’m just here for my appointment.” Makoto slowly looked up and saw her still smiling at him. It eased him and calmed him down a little.

She typed something into her computer then brightly looked back up at him. “Ah yes, Mr. Tachibana. This is your first time here, right?”

“Y-yes, that’s right.”

“No worries then. I’ll just need you to fill this out, if that’s okay,” She said. She handed him a slim black clipboard with a piece of paper attached to it and a pen. “Don’t worry, its easy and should only take you around ten minutes to complete. But don’t hesitate to come up and ask for assistance if you need any.”

Makoto smiled at her. “Thank you.”

He walked over to the blue lounge against the side wall, near the reception desk, and sat down. He scanned over the piece of paper. Most of the questions just revolved around how he was feeling, what actions he had done, what he hoped to get out of using this facility and any addictions he might have had. There were a few medical payment questions as well.

Even though some of the questions felt very personal, Makoto tried his best to answer them all honestly, even if some of his responses made him feel ashamed in himself. He knew there was no point in him going if he was not going to try and give it his all and that meant being honest, even when everything inside of him was telling him not to. The questions where phrased easily and many of them had circles next to them that he had to mark. The words: strongly disagree, disagree, neither disagree or agree, agree, and strongly agree were in bold. It took some of the pressure off of Makoto, and he appreciated that.

After he had filled out all of the sheets he walked back up to the reception desk to hand them back to the women.

“Thank you very much,” She smiled again.

“I was wondering if you could please tell me where the bathroom is?” Makoto asked quietly.

“Certainly. It’s just up there,” She said, pointing to a glass door. “Just walk through there and straight ahead you’ll see the bathroom.”

“Thank you,” Makoto said, a small smile as a crept along his face.

While softly pulling on his fingers, Makoto walked straight ahead. He saw the sections that the room expanded to. There were other people sitting in chairs along the walls. One of them was a middle aged woman with stiff yet oily looking faded purple hair. Her eyebrows were thickly drawn on and pointed up high. It made her appear as though she was glaring at everyone around her. He could smell her pungent perfume as he walked past. Her brown jumper sat loosely around her thin and fragile frame. Though when she saw Makoto walk past she smiled at him and offered a small wave. He returned the gesture.

Sitting on a single chair near the glass doors that led to the bathroom, a young man sat. He looked to be only in his early twenties, Makoto thought. He was looking down at a book. His body looked uncomfortable, as if he detested the mere thought of being where he was, but his face seemed kind. His right leg bobbed up and down in an agitated manner and Makoto noticed the red lines and spots of irritation that littered the man’s lower left arm. They looked as if the man had picked and scratched at that arm a lot. Makoto supposed some people would feel uneasy around that man. He had an aura of unpredictable and sporadic behaviour. Makoto did not find himself feeling uneasy though. The calmness and intense nature of that man’s eyes as he read, what Makoto thought must have been, an interesting and good book, struck Makoto. He thought that man must have a lot to say. He thought that man must have had a lot of interesting things to say. If Makoto were not so shy and bad at introducing himself to new people, he thought that he would like to get to know that man. He thought he would be able to learn a lot from him. A tinge of sadness struck Makoto though. He realised he was probably only in a select few in regards to that. Makoto knew that many people would probably go out of their way to avoid that man – that deeply saddened Makoto. Within such a brief time span he saw so much wonder and intrigue in that man. Yet he knew many people would want nothing to do with him, due to their own bias and prejudice and lack of patience with people. He wondered if anyone spoke to that man. He truly hoped someone did. That man looked like he had a lot to say, but very few to listen to him. Makoto hoped he would find someone to listen.

He walked past the man and pushed open the glass doors. The air felt chilled against his skin. There was a long hallway to his right filled with a couple meeting rooms, and a storage closet to his left. Makoto walked straight ahead and saw the bathroom. It was a just a single unisex toilet. It was rather large too, to accommodate anyone in a wheelchair. There were no mirrors in the bathroom either. Makoto knew why, and he was secretly thankful for that to be the case. He closed the door and locked it. He noticed that on the back of the door there was another poster. This one was about the stages of eating disorders and how they can affect the individual and their families and friends. There were a few little pictures as well. Makoto briefly read over it and noticed how there were different kinds of eating disorders, and how not all of them meant someone would be or become stick thin – even if it was a common characteristic. It struck a chord within him. He pushed the thought away and did what he came to do and left.

As he went back to his chair near the reception desk, he noticed a new person had come in. He sat across the room, opposite to Makoto. He was a large man whose gut spilled over his pants. He looked rather short too. Makoto’s eyes lingered on his face – he was quite handsome. He had a soft face. His black hair lightly dusted over his eyes, and his face looked very kind and welcoming. The man noticed Makoto looking at him and smiled. Makoto smiled back.

A few minutes passed and then Makoto heard a click from the door beside him. He turned his head and a tall and slightly curvaceous women walked out. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and her blazer hugged her tightly. She briefly scanned the room before her eyes landed on Makoto. She smiled and walked over to him.

“Mr. Tachibana?” She asked.

Makoto nodded his head.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She said swiftly, bowing slightly. She put her hand out and he shook it lightly. “Will you please follow me so we can start our session?”

He stood up and followed her to a door to the side. She opened the door and walked in. He followed suite and shut the door behind him.

The room was much larger than he anticipated it would have been. There was a low white table that sat in the middle of the room. With few chairs around it. There was a whiteboard on the wall as well – for some reason, Makoto did not fully understand why, but he did not question it.

“Please,” She said. “Take a seat.”

Makoto sat down cautiously. He was still trying to process everything around him, and it struck him where he was and what he was doing. His nerves took a hold of him once more, but he tried not to show it. He pulled the cream coloured pillow that was next to him around to his front and wrapped his arms around it.

“So, for a little introduction. I’ll be working with you while you’re here. My name is Nao Sohma.”

Makoto nodded his head.

Nao smiled at him. “Why don’t we start by getting to know each other? Would you like to tell me why you’re here?”

Makoto took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then, he began telling her about his life. At first it came out in trickles and drops, but once he got going, Makoto felt how liberating it was to release all of his emotional tension and anguish; it came out like a waterfall.

***

The smell of curry filled the apartment.

It was accompanied with the vibrant sound of laughter amongst friends.

Rin sat on the lounge near the dining room and kitchen, the television was on but it did not seem that he was paying attention to it. He held a cool beer in his hands. Sousuke was in the kitchen, cooking the curry and chatting along with Rin. Makoto was glad to be in the middle of that. He did not say anything, but he did not feel the need to. He felt content soaking in all of the noise and laughter from the other two. He was not drunk, nor had he drunk any of the beer, but his stomach and heart was filled with a childish and giddy nature that replicated the same affect. His was face was flushed red, yet he did not mind. He felt content in that moment, happy even.

“I think it’s just ‘cause you’re getting old,” Sousuke laughed to Rin.

“Ahhh – fuck off. You and I are the same age. If I’m getting old that means you are too.”

“Not true,” Sousuke retorted. “I’m still young at heart, unlike _you_ , you bitter old man.”

“I’m not bitter!”

“I don’t know – you’re sitting on that lounge over there, drinking cheap beer, and complaining about the young people. I’d say that fits the criteria of a bitter old man pretty well.”

“I wasn’t complaining about the ‘young people’ - I was just saying how fucking annoying some of the new swimmers are because of how entitled they act simply ‘cause they’re younger than me and –” Rin cut himself short.

Sousuke looked over at him, raising and eyebrow and smirking triumphantly.

“Alright! Fine!” Rin said. “I’m fucking complaining about the ‘young people’. Sue me. I’m a fucking monster.”

Sousuke turned back to the stove. “Hey, you said it, not me. Don’t beat yourself up too much over it; some men are just destined to be grumpy, bitter old bums. You couldn’t help it.”

“Makoto,” Rin whined. “He’s picking on me – do something about it.”

Makoto just smiled and shook his head.

He felt so natural in that situation. He felt like he had finally been given a break and the universe was allowing him to have something normal and calm and nice. He felt like he had finally earned something so worthwhile. Although he was feeling warm and connected, his heart slightly panged at the realisation of what he had been missing out on, and how long he had gone without it. He had been denied those simple feelings of belong for so many years. He had missed out on so much. He could never get those years back. He could never make up for all that lost time, no matter how hard he tried. It hurt, but he attempted not to let it control him. Makoto knew he could not get those years back, ever, but that did not mean he had to add to those years. He could break the cycle – and that evening was proving that to him.

Makoto turned his head to the side and noticed that Sousuke was done cooking and was starting to get ready to place the meals into bowls. Makoto stood up from the chair and walked into the kitchen space. He stood next to Sousuke and their arms slightly brushed.

Sousuke looked at Makoto, smiling. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” Makoto grinned. “Do you need any help?”

“That’d be awesome actually. Could you please grab the bowls from the top shelf over there?” He asked, motioning to the cupboard to his left with his head.

Makoto nodded his head and went to collect them.

“Oi! Rin!” Sousuke called out.

“What?” He called back.

“Take notes from Makoto,” Sousuke said. “He’s actually _helping_ me. That’s how you be a nice person. You could take to learn a thing or two from him.”

“What is this?” Rin laughed. “Did you invite me over here just to talk shit about me?”

“ _Never_ ,” Sousuke objected, sarcasm dripping from his lips.

“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a fucking second. You’re a real sneaky bastard, you know that right?”

“You wouldn’t love me if I wasn’t,” Sousuke replied.

Rin laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

Makoto softly giggled to himself as he placed the bowls down next to Sousuke.

“Thank you, Makoto,” Sousuke praised affectionately. For the briefest second his fingers wrapped around Makoto’s elbow. Once Sousuke had placed the beef curry into the bowls, Makoto helped him carry them over to the table by taking one.

Rin started walking over to the table and placed his can of beer down. “This actually looks really good Sousuke, thanks,” He said.

“It was nothing, really. I’m just glad you were able to find some spare time to come and visit.”

“So am I.”

They all sat down and gave their thanks before eating.

The strong taste of the curry mixed with the beef bled over Makoto’s tongue. He felt it slide down his throat and warm his stomach. It had been many years since Makoto had been able to sit down with friends and actually enjoy a meal. Normally he would be too nervous about how they viewed him eating it to actually enjoy it. He was not used to feeling so at ease. He was not entirely sure why he had changed, but he strongly felt it had something to do with Sousuke. Sousuke never seemed to look down on him for who he was or what he was. Sousuke just took him for the man he was and did not ask any questions or give off the atmosphere of feeling uncomfortable. He hoped he was doing the same thing for Sousuke. Makoto hated the idea that he might be like some grotesque fungi sucking out the life of Sousuke, flourishing in the darkness of his own heart. He truly hoped he was not that for Sousuke, but rather, that he also offered some form of support and love. He tried to, so he hoped the voice of his heart reached Sousuke. He truly did hope for that.

Sousuke took a deep drink of his beer. He released a sigh of content when it left his lips.

“I haven’t had a good drink of beer for ages now – god I miss it,” He said happily.

“I haven’t for a while either,” Rin said. “Being a swimmer really fucking sucks, ‘cause I always have to watch what I eat and drink, otherwise it really kills later on. I was fine with that stuff when I was younger, you know, minus the occasional cigarette and all, but now? Man, I don’t know. I really don’t care about it as much. Younger me would be so disappointed, he was so driven. I haven’t felt that drive for a long time though. I just do it because I don’t really see myself doing anything else.”

“Why don’t you just resign?” Sousuke asked.

“I’m not that fucking old,” Rin spat, though Makoto could tell he was not angry.

“You don’t have to be old. As you said, you’ve just lost your drive and passion for it. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Rin sat still for a little while. His eyes locked onto his beer. His demeanour had drastically dropped. “I know that’s what I probably should do. I know I’m not half as good of a swimmer as I used to be. I know I should probably just give up swimming competitively, but I just don’t know what I’d do without it. I gave up practically all of my life for swimming, you know? It feels like it would all be for nothing if I didn’t still do it.”

Sousuke looked at Rin intently. “Rin, I understand. I destroyed my shoulder for swimming, trying to be the best, now I can barely move it at all. Let alone swim competitively. I know how much it hurts, but sometimes you just have to walk away. Especially if your health is at risk.” Makoto could see a level strength in Sousuke’s eyes growing. It was as if he knew more about Rin then he was letting on. Makoto looked over at Rin and noticed that he had a similar look in his eyes. He knew something more was going on between them; he knew that this was not a new discussion between them. He wondered how many times they had had it.

Something released and snapped in Rin’s eyes and the intensity faded away.

“Ah well, I’ll figure something out,” He laughed scratching the back of his head.

Sousuke leaned back in his chair – Makoto did not even notice that he had sat forward to begin with – and rubbed his eyes before sadly smiling back at Rin. Makoto figured that Rin had given a code to drop the conversation, before it went somewhere that would upset both of them. They had definitely talked about it before.

Makoto just ignored it. He felt as if he intervened himself he would be adding oil to the fire that was starting to dim down to embers. He did not want to reignite whatever burning pain they had between each other. Whatever it was, it was clearly very painful for the both of them, and when something got that painful, Makoto knew the interference of others was never taken too well.

“Is this curry a new recipe?” Rin asked, clearly attempting to change the conversation.

“Yeah,” Sousuke looked up, his voice getting slightly more energetic. “It’s my mum’s recipe actually. I’d been using a recipe I’d found online for years, but I’d grown pretty sick of it. So I asked one from my mum and she gave me this one. I much prefer it to the old one.”

“Yeah, it’s delicious,” Rin smiled.

Makoto smiled too.

The rest of the evening flowed well. There were jokes and laughs and the atmosphere of happiness that clung to Makoto’s skin and hair. It was bathed in a life he wanted to live forever.

As the hours rolled over they had all made their way to the lounge room. Sousuke and Rin both still seemed wide awake and ready to talk. Makoto, on the other hand, often found his head lolling to the side and his eyes snapping shut for long periods of time. He did not want to leave though. He wanted to be in that warm atmosphere of Sousuke and Rin a little longer. He felt like a small child who refused to go to the bathroom when he needed to, in fear that he would miss the most amazing thing in the world while he was gone.

He felt a warm and large hand wrap around his shoulder. Makoto slowly opened his eyes and saw Sousuke in a dewy and dimed yellow light. He was smiling. Makoto dopily smiled back.

“I think you’re getting a little sleepy there, Makoto,” Sousuke whispered soothingly.

“I’m not,” Makoto mumbled.

“It’s okay if you go to bed, you know,” Sousuke said. “Would you like some help getting to your room?”

 _Your room_. That made him smile.

Sousuke laughed. “What’re you grinning about?”

“Nothing,” He mused.

“Come on,” Sousuke said, helping Makoto stand up. “You’ll get a sore back if sleep here. I’ll help you to your room.”

Once Makoto stood up he felt a little more awake. “No, that’s okay. I can take myself.”

“Okay,” Sousuke replied. He brought his hand up and softly patted Makoto’s head, in a slow calming motion. He recoiled immediately after he realised what he had done. A small blush spread across his face.

“G-good night, Makoto,” He mumbled.

“Goodnight,” Makoto mumbled in return. “Goodnight, Rin.”

“Night, big guy,” Rin replied.

In slow steps Makoto made his way to his room. Once Sousuke heard the door shut he slumped down into the lounge and pressed his face into his hands.

“Well,” Rin started. “You two sure seem chummy.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rin,” He mumbled. “I’m just drunk, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah _sure_. That’s definitely it. One hundred per cent.”

Sousuke groaned.

“I knew you two were getting closer, but I didn’t realise it was _that_ close. You two were acting like a bunch of awkward teenagers. It was uncomfortable to watch, actually,” Rin laughed.

“It’s not like that,” Sousuke said.

“Are you sure about that? Because it sure looked like it.”

“I’m sure, Rin.”

“Do you want it to be?”

Sousuke pulled his hands away from his face and slouched back into the lounge. He looked up at the roof and sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well, the way you act would say otherwise.”

“I really don’t know, Rin. Despite how I may or may not feel about him is irrelevant. I don’t know if I want anything to happen or not. I really, _really_ , don’t know. Makoto, he – he has a lot going on at the moment. Like, a fuck ton of a lot of stuff. And I’m no prime example of physical and emotional health right now, either. I don’t know if it would be a good idea or not.”

“Haru has a lot of problems,” Rin said. “That doesn’t mean it’s been wrong for us to date.”

“Yeah, but Haru is Haru and Makoto is Makoto. They’re two different people who both deal with their problems differently. Maybe a relationship was a good thing for Haru, but I don’t know if it would be a good idea for Makoto. And besides, I don’t know where my emotions lie with him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how strong they are. Like, I don’t know if it is a short term thing or a long term thing. I don’t even know if it is just sexual or if it is romantic as well.”

“Oh yeah,” Rin said. “He’s, um, ace? Asexual? Isn’t he?”

Sousuke nodded his head. “I would never force him to do anything he doesn’t want to, but I don’t know what my attraction is towards him.”

“It’s definitely not just sexual, I can tell you that now. You don’t just pat someone and blush about it if you just like someone sexually.”

Sousuke groaned and put his head back into his hands.

“Yeah, it was pretty embarrassing,” Rin laughed. “You have to live with doing that now.”

Sousuke groaned again.

“When did this even start? I’m not criticizing or anything, I just never pictured it with you two. Even when we all used to hang out when we were younger, you and Makoto never really spoke an awful lot.”

Sousuke lifted his head. “I don’t really know. I really don’t. At first I just really enjoyed his company, and enjoyed being his friend. He just listens, like he really listens to me. He cared about what I had to say. He never did anything big or grand though. He just took an interest. He never overwhelmed me or anything. He just does a lot of little things.”

“Like what?”

Sousuke thought about it. “Like a few days ago. I was just having a really fucking awful day; nothing seemed to be going my way at all. I didn’t have to tell him though; he just sort of sensed it. I wasn’t even acting upset. He just _knew_. He made me a hot chocolate and asked if I needed hug. Then I swear I must have been hugged by him for at least an hour. It was so small, yet it meant so fucking much to me. Especially later that night. I went to go and see him, but I heard him crying in his room. I would’ve gone to comfort him, but he told me when he gets like that he’s better off alone. So I left him alone. But just knowing he was feeling so awful in himself that day, but he still came and helped me, it really means a lot.”

Rin softly hummed in agreement. “He’s always been a really kind person. Even when I was really little, I remember how kind he was. We all, Haru, Nagisa and even Rei and myself, I think we all leaned on him in our own way. Even if was only small.”

Sousuke looked a little shocked. “You? I didn’t know that.”

Rin softly smiled. “Oh yeah. I definitely leaned on him. Probably not the same way the others did though. When Haru and I were apart, or having a fight or just not able to be around each other, I really depended on Makoto looking after Haru. I never asked him to, obviously. He just did it. I know Haru has and has had many problems, but I don’t think he would have gotten out the way he did without Makoto. I’m saying Makoto saved him or anything, but he definitely helped and made Haru feel loved.”

Sousuke nodded his head.

He felt awfully surreal in that moment. He never thought he would have been having that kind of conversation with Rin of all people. Even when he got a girlfriend or a boyfriend, he never told Rin about it. He never wanted Rin to think he loved anyone else. Even though he knew Rin did not feel the same way about himself, and he was convinced Rin did not fully believe he felt that way about him, he still never wanted to allude to the fact that his heart could hold anyone other than Rin in it. He knew it made no sense, but his love made him desperate and crave anything and fear everything. Yet, in that moment he was sharing a secret of love to him. One that he had not even fully told himself. He was shocked that he had come that far. Yet, Sousuke knew it was not because he was not still in love with Rin. He knew a small part of his heart was – but rather, it was because he had finally found someone he wanted the world to know he held in his heart. It was because Sousuke realised that his heart was capable of being in love with and loving more than one person. He did not have to be chained down by a one-sided love anymore. He could move on while still holding a part of Rin in his heart. He did not feel like a bad person for doing so. He was able to love more than one human. His heart was versatile and wide and it was capable of more than he ever gave it credit for.

He may forever be in love with Rin, but that did not mean he could not fall in love with someone else equally as much. It did not mean he could not keep his deep and beautiful and important friendship with Rin.

Sousuke felt emotionally liberated. Being able to admit to himself and partly out loud to someone else, his confusions of his heart was so comforting and reassuring. Sousuke found unity in that moment.

He and Rin were similar, and would always be bound together, one way or another.

They were petals from the same flower – and they had no control over where the wind would blow them once they fell.

In that moment, Sousuke learnt something about love, not sexual love, or romantic love, just love.

_I don’t think people fall in love; I think loves falls into them. Love is not something that sticks around you. It is something that explodes in you._

It made Sousuke’s heart cry a little bit. Fully admitting where his heart stood made him even more aware of how broken Makoto was, and amplified how Sousuke wanted to help him, even though he knew that was not something he could do.

“Do you think Makoto and Haru will ever make amends?” Sousuke mumbled.

Rin looked up, a little startled at the sudden question. “I don’t know. I know Haru wants to be friends with Makoto. I also know he loves Makoto, an awful lot. But I think he’s looking for a sign or a reason to go back. He’s just scared about what might happen.”

“What’s he scared of?”

Rin shook his head. “I really don’t know. I think he’s just scared of being hurt or being placed in a situation he can’t really control again. I think he knows Makoto would not hurt him intentionally, but it’s still hard for him to put himself out there like that. I don’t think he’s relationship has changed per se; I think there’s just a wall blocking it. If you know what I mean.”

Sousuke’ nodded his head. “How is Haru going? Is he getting better?”

Rin solemnly smiled down at his hands. “I think he is . . . but I don’t know if I’m seeing that solely because I want him to get better, or if he actually is. I mean, he’s fine if I leave him at home alone, like now. I know he won’t do anything to himself. I think he’s getting better. He’s just in a bit of a rut right now.”

Sousuke got up and moved closer to Rin. He dropped his head down and rested it on Rin’s shoulder. Rin brought his arm up and patted Sousuke’s head.

“I know it’ll get better,” He whispered. “Not just for Haru, but for Makoto too. They both deserve a win. They deserve a happy ending. I know they’ll get one.”

Sousuke closed his eyes and pressed closer to Rin. “I hope they do. I hope they get a win.”

“Makoto seemed pretty happy tonight.”

Sousuke smiled. “He did, didn’t he? I was so fucking relieved to see that. And he ate well too. I don’t know if Makoto is aware I noticed, but he tends to prefer eating by himself. And if he does eat around other people it is in a really awkward or distressed manner, especially if he’s had a bad day. He seemed so lively tonight though. So I’m happy.”

“So am I,” Rin said. “I’ve always felt bad about what happened between him and Haru, especially after I found out what really happened. It really started to eat at me. It made me feel like shit.”

“You shouldn’t beat yourself up. It’s not your fault. It was just an ugly situation. I know Makoto doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t even blame Haru. He blames himself more than anyone else,” Sousuke mumbled sleepily.

Rin closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

The night devoured the both of them before they became victims of the sun and another day. Tomorrow curled her fingers around their throats, but chose to be merciful and let them sleep.

***

He had tricked himself.

He had been having a good couple of weeks.

He had not felt extremely upset.

He thought that maybe everything had been fixed.

He thought maybe Sousuke had fixed him.

Makoto had been wrong though.

A feeling of sadness and dread and melancholy had engulfed him in a small cocoon. His whole body, from head to toe was bathed in it. It covered him the same way a fever or head cold would. He had been so happy and peaceful that he forgot some days it felt like he walking into a newly painted house: the smell toxic and overwhelming, no matter which room he tried to hide in to get away. Other days it felt like listening to the low rumble of a car engine while looking out the window. In the end Makoto never had any control over how his emotions would react to him or his world.

It felt as if were playing a violin with the strings of his heart.

Most of the day consisted of him sleeping, and waking up, and forcing himself to go back to sleep. He could not even manage to convince himself to go watch television or to go and have a shower. He was locked down as a prisoner to his bed, in his room, in his mind. He was being punished and tortured by his heart and his mind.

He did not understand why it had to be that way. The last few weeks he had been getting help. Rin had been coming over every other night to have dinner with himself and Sousuke. Everything had been going so well, why did his mind have to betray him and persecute him?

Through parts of the morning and the early afternoon Makoto’s phone would buzz with a call or a text message, but he ignored all of them. He did not want to hear from anyone. He did not want to talk to anyone. He did not feel like he was allowed to. Not after he had fallen so far.

It dawned in him how he would never truly be free of his mind. No matter how much effort he put into himself, nothing seemed to change. He had cursed himself. He had ruined himself of any form of happiness.

Makoto kept thinking that Sousuke was sure to kick him out after that. Why would he want him anymore? Why would anyone want him? He could not stay happy for more than a couple weeks. Even with help, he could not stand tall.

He felt useless.

The morning continued to drag through, but Makoto did not leave his bed. His phone would buzz a few times, but he still ignored it. Each ring or buzz struck him though, and he wanted to cry with each one.

His stomach felt tight and his mind felt heavy.

His whole body, his whole life, felt like a deadweight.

Later on in the day, Makoto did manage to drag himself out of bed for minute to pull himself to the bathroom. Once he came back he lethargically went to his phone to check the time, when he did he noticed all of his messages had been from Sousuke.

A lump formed in his throat.

His stomach dropped and his eyes stung with a few loose tears.

Despite the struggle it presented to him, Makoto went and pulled some clothes on, grabbed his wallet, his keys and his phone and left the house in a scurried rush.

In that moment Makoto truly hated himself.

**_Makoto, please pick up. Rin’s been sent to the local hospital. Please pick up._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! :) <3  
> I am sorry if this chapter seemed a little a dull or boring. 
> 
> SPECIAL NOTICE:  
> If anyone is going to the Australian Sydney Supanova event this year on the Saturday, please, let me know! I would absolutely love to meet you and give you the biggest and warmest hug!! :D <3 
> 
> Thank you all, so much!! I hope you all have a beautiful day!! <3 <3 <3


	14. Love Will Always Find Its Way Back To The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto and Haru meet again.   
> Can they ever get back what they lost? Are their hearts searching for the same thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, everyone!! Thank you all so much for reading this chapter! It means the world to me!   
> I am so sorry it took this long for me to get it out, it is my longest chapter yet, and I feel a bit ill. Ahaha. Thank you all so much for waiting and for your support!! <3
> 
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Negative Self Worth  
> \- Anxiety attack  
> \- Hospital In-depth Mention  
> \- Mentions Of Self Harm  
> \- Suicide Mention  
> \- Hospital Patients   
> \- Self Hatred  
> \- Mention Of Depression  
> \- Mention Of Family Death (past)   
> \- Suicide Ward In Hospital 
> 
>  
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, but merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in these situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day and enjoy the chapter!! :)

_The wind pushed past Makoto’s hair as he ran. It carried the sound of his giggling voice. As he slightly turned his head back to see Haru, he could see him softly jogging behind him. A secret smile spread across his face. It made Makoto’s smile even larger._

_The grass was wet and dewy from the rain the night before and the potent smell of wet leaves and grass floated around the two boys. It made Makoto feel infinite and dreamy at the same time. It made him feel as if he could and would be anything he wanted. As he turned his head back again to look at Haru he tripped over his feet and fell head-first to the ground. The pressure from the ground hitting his nose pushed a few unwelcomed tears out of his eyes. A small red scratch blossomed on his chin and it felt warm in contrast to his bitterly cold finger tips. Once Makoto sat up he brushed the dirt from his hair and dizzily looked in front of himself. He saw a worried Haru getting closer and closer._

_“Makoto, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” He asked as he bent down and softly placed his hand on Makoto’s arm._

_Makoto beamed up at him with a face splitting grin. “I’m fine!” He laughed. “Did you see that though? It was an awesome fall! I even got a scratch. See? See?” He asked proudly._

_“Doesn’t it hurt?” Haru queried._

_Makoto shook his head. “I can barely feel it. It’s pretty cool. It’s sort of like one of those scars a pirate has.”_

_Haru laughed a little. “Not at all. Pirates have big ones that go over their eyes,” Haru explained, lighting dragging his own finger down his left eye._

_“Oh? Really? Then this is even cooler then a pirate’s scar!”_

_“If you say so,” Haru laughed unsurely._

_Makoto placed his hands behind himself and pushed off the ground. He dusted all of the dirt off and smiled back down at Haru. Makoto gripped his hand and began running back to the playground. As he moved he felt Haru grip his hand tightly in return. The sound of the wind blowing and a few cars could be heard._

_Once they reached the playground both Makoto and Haru were panting and breathing heavily. Their chests felt tight and their throats felt dry. Yet their smiles had not been wiped from their faces. They walked over to the swings and sat down. The world around them seemed to disappear and become irrelevant. They were both aware of the time and feelings of the world swirling and passing around them; they could feel speckles of it and see it, yet is simply washed over their faces like spray from the ocean. Their hearts felt content where they were and felt no need to shift at the will of the world. It was the strength and the blessing that came along with the blissful state of boyhood._

_They did not know it at the time, but over the years that armour would rust and disintegrate. That armour of social and emotional protection would be obliterated. Though the prosecutors would be who they both lest expected. It would not be friends or other people that threw the first blow – it would be themselves, and the world itself, who would be the first to rip away at their armour and senses of the world._

_But in that moment, and many moments to follow, where they were just young boys, young boys basking in the warmth of their town and their playground, they were ignorant and naive and beautifully and perpetually themselves. Both Haru and Makoto would shift and change over the years; they would bear many different masks, always trying to find the one that fit them when they were little. Neither of them would come to realise though, they never removed that mask from their childhood. They simply kept placing new ones on top of it. They did not realise the mask from their childhood had melted into their skins, and became who they were, are and would be. So, they would both spend the rest of their lives scouring for something they had with them all along._

_Such is the price paid for adulthood and finding a foot hole in society._

_Sense of self is the ticket needed to enter the vault of acceptable and approachable adulthood. Those who refuse to pay the toll are never fully integrated._

_Makoto dragged his feet along the ground as he softly swung himself. The creaking of the swing rubbed itself against his ears. The tips of his white shoes collected small piles of dirt and shifted in colour. The tips of his hair were lightly dusted in small beads of sweat._

_Haru turned his head to the side and looked at Makoto. Makoto looked back at Haru._

_“Haru, did you put on sunscreen?”_

_Haru thought for a moment before shaking his head._

_Makoto smiled a little, looking over at the fine red colouring that had begun to spread itself over Haru’s pale cheeks._

_“I think you might be burnt,” Makoto said._

_Haru swiftly brought his hands up to his face and touched his cheeks. “Is it bad?”_

_Makoto jumped out of his swing seat and walked in front of Haru. He bent down and looked at Haru intently. Haru caught of the scent of grass softly emitting off of Makoto’s body. “I don’t think so. It’ll probably get worse if we stay out too long though.”_

_“Do you have a hat with you?”_

_“I don’t know. Would you like me to see?” Makoto smiled._

_Haru nodded his head._

_The two of them ran back over to the tree at the far end of the park, where they had left their bags and ball. Makoto opened his bag and pulled out the plastic containers of fruit his mother had packed for him._

_“Haru look!” Makoto laughed._

_“What is it?”_

_“My mummy packed me a jumper! Its summer!” He giggled as he pulled a brown jumper out of his bag._

_Haru sat down next to Makoto and laughed a little too. “That was nice of her.”_

_“It was nice,” Makoto agreed. “But it was also a little silly.”_

_Makoto placed the jumper to the side and put his hand in the bag again. This time he pulled out a small black cap._

_“I found a hat, Haru!” Makoto said happily. “Here.”_

_Haru took the hat from Makoto’s hands and placed it on his head. “Thank you.”_

_Makoto stood up and pushed some of Haru’s hair out his eyes. “I think it’s a little big for your head.”_

_Makoto split Haru’s fringe apart and tucked it to the side and pulled the cap back a little so he could hold the hair down with the sides of the cap._

_Haru stood still and allowed Makoto to adjust the cap. Makoto tightened the back of it and tipped it slightly up, so Haru could see well._

_“There!” Makoto said. “All fixed. It fits.”_

_Haru softly smiled while lightly touching his head. Makoto began packing his bag back up and looked up at Haru once again._

_“Would you like to have some fruit, Haru?”_

_Haru nodded his head and sat down on the grass next to Makoto. The grass was cool and prickly against his exposed legs and scabbed knees. The warm wind of summer pushed through the tree – pushing and pulling the branches and tousling the leaves. Haru could feel the heat of Makoto against him. He felt calm and at ease in that moment._

_Their hands became sticky from the fruit as they ate it, but they did not stop smiling as it dribbled down their chins and dripped onto their legs._

_A group of five children came walking along the footpath to play on the equipment. Their giggles and squeals could be heard from the tree the two boys sat under. They ran around chasing each other and talking of inside jokes only they understood. Makoto smiled over at them before smiling back at Haru._

_“It’s so hot,” Makoto sighed, fanning himself._

_“You don’t handle the heat very well, do you, Makoto?”_

_Makoto shook his head. “It’s fun when we can go to the pools together, but I always feel stinky and icky when it’s hot.”_

_Haru placed the last piece of his fruit in his mouth. “Why don’t we go to the pools then?”_

_Makoto looked up shocked. He was not used to Haru suggesting for them to do anything. It was always Makoto who asked for them to hang out. “I would love to, Haru!” He stood up excitedly and brushed the dirt and grass off his pants. “I think my mum will be able to take us.”_

_Haru nodded his head and stood up too. He helped Makoto place all of the containers back into his bag. Makoto grabbed Haru’s hand as they began walking across the grass to the footpath. The sun shone above them, the wind whispered across them and they were bathed in the sounds and textures of the world._

_They were safe and happy._

_They were locked in an enclosure, a pocket, of youth and chances. They were free of expectations and internal demands. They were being pulled along by the bray of their hearts and the adoring light of boyish years. Their hearts were allowed to feel what they felt. They were allowed to run around with battered knees as opposed to battered hearts. They were none the wiser to the images and shapes they would take as they got older. They had no idea that half the love they received in life was simply given to them as an advanced payment for who the world believed they would become. That payment would be asked to be returned. They would face confusion and loss and the feeling of insignificance. They would leave that world of cherry blossoms and glitter and enter a world that was originally warded off from the park they would play pretend in._

_They would become captive to themselves and each other._

_They did not know it, but that playground would fade and drip out of their lives. All the memories and emotions of it would slowly burn away in their minds and be replaced with the travesties of life. That playground was a world in itself, a world surrounded by men in black suites and large buildings that dwelled in mortgages and debt and qualifications and shrivelling hearts. That playground was surrounded by a world that’s pillars were constructed from the chants: ‘not enough’, ‘try again’, ‘not good enough’, ‘not smart enough’, ‘try harder’, ‘not enough’._

_not enough_

_not enough_

_not enough_

_Haru and Makoto were happy and content in that moment though. They were young and their souls sung the true songs of their hearts. It was effortless and wholesome. It was a feeling they would search for, for the rest of their lives. Yet, they would not know what they were looking for._

_“Haru! Hurry!” Makoto said as he grabbed Haru’s hand tighter. Hand-in-hand, the two of them quickly walked up the hot footpath to Makoto’s house, the rest of the world blurring away from them. To them, they were the only two people._

***

Makoto did not remember how he got to the hospital. All he could remember was racing out of the house in a panicked and desperate state. He remembered feeling useless and cruel. He remembered feeling like a bad friend. He did not fully remember asking for directions to Rin’s room. He remembered his heart burst through his ribs and he remembered feeling dazed. But in the commotion of the moment he did not remember how he got to the hospital.

Makoto had a very odd relationship with hospitals. He did not hate them or detest them. Yet, he never fully felt comfortable in them either. The clinical smell and soulless colour of them reminded him of the time he had been admitted after trying to kill himself. He knew the people there were there to help, he knew it was a place where hope and second chances were born, yet he could not remove the feeling of shackles been tide around his neck as he walked through the white hallways. His part of the hospital, from when he had been admitted, was very different though. The door leading into it had been locked. People had to remove any objects from their pockets and leave their bags in small apertures – not that anyone had come to visit him. No mirrors were allowed to be brought in for the patients. There had been a small ‘outdoor’ section that the patients could go to. It truly looked and felt like a prison. The windows were covered with bars and the grass was a fake carpet like material.

Makoto had no fond memories of that time. And no matter how he tried to rationalise it in his head, whenever he went to a hospital he was reminded of that dark part of his life. That dark part that still managed to seep into him.

A few nurses with light grey circles under their eyes walked past Makoto and gave him a small smile and bow. He returned the gesture in a rushed manner. He was too preoccupied with repeating the directions to where he would find Rin and the others in his head to pay proper attention to the world around him.

His feet dragged along the ground as he shuffled around the corner. He continued to walk straight ahead. He tightly squeezed his mobile phone in his hands. It felt abnormally heavy to him. The guilt it represented to him felt like lead, dragging him down, making him dread what he would be greeted with when he found what he was looking for. Makoto turned right and stood still once he was faced with the sight around the corner.

He saw a tired and messily dressed Rei sitting in a plastic seat, with Nagisa’s head resting on his shoulder. Their clothes were rumpled and their hair stood at odd angles. An older woman with bright grey hair sat next to them. Makoto had never seen that women before, but there was something in her eyes that looked inexplicably like Rin. Makoto’s heart froze when his eyes saw who was sitting next to her.

Sousuke’s whole body looked tense and rigid. His eyes looked dead and dull staring at the ground. He looked like a sandcastle that was poorly made and being slowly devoured by the upcoming tide while being licked away by the wind. A tight grip wrapped itself around Makoto’s heart and throat at the sight of him. He just wanted to shield Sousuke from all of the emotions that were gnawing at him. Makoto could not move though. His knees felt weak and his feet were melting into the ground.

Sitting in Sousuke’s lap was a young woman Makoto had not seen for years. In his memories her hair was long and scarlet. In his memories she was strong-willed and kind. In his memories she lived as a vibrant girl who lived un-bashfully as herself. The woman in front of him was not the girl scattered through his memories. Her hair was a short dirty blonde and she was wearing a grey tracksuit. Her face was tucked into Sousuke’s neck and her hand gripped his shirt. Makoto could see her body was slightly shaking, as if she were crying. Makoto was not used to seeing her in such a state. In his memories she was always so loud and proud and strong. He did not know how to take the image before him. He was worried for her mostly though. He could not imagine how hard it must have been for Gou to sit in a hospital room, waiting for news on her big brother. He guessed she had an equal level of apprehension towards hospitals, due to her father passing away when she was younger. He wanted to scoop her up and take away her pain as well.

Makoto wanted to take away all the pain that was leaking through that room. He wanted all of his friend’s hearts to feel lighter and free of the burdens of the world.

They all looked so old and broken. Makoto was trapped in a bubble of disassociation. His mind still found it hard to believe they were the same friends he spent most of his time with when he was younger. None of them reflected who they used to be. None of them had become what they set out to be. They looked so old and weathered from the world. He could not believe they were the same people who had brought so many positive emotions to him in his youth and so many emotions of pain to him in his adulthood. He almost could not pin who they were anymore. He felt no real connection to them. The only thing that joined them in that moment was the unified pain in their hearts brought on by the uncertainty of the world and what it would do to their friend.

Regardless of what had happened or what would happen, in that moment, Makoto wanted to protect his friends. He wanted to fix the situation and make everything okay for them. He wanted them to all be okay. That was all he wanted. Yet, he knew there was nothing he could do, and that broke him. That took away all of his strength.

***

_Empty chip packets and half-drunk bottles of fizzy were spewed across the floor and wooden coffee table. The room was warm and sticky, despite the cool air flowing in through the open back door. None of them seemed to mind. They were just content to be around friends._

_“I’m going to own my own business,” Rei said. His grin spread across his face. He pushed his glasses up his noes triumphantly._

_None of them thought it was a farfetched idea. They all believed that Rei was the most intelligent out of them all. None of them had any doubt in their minds that Rei would be the one to conquer the world._

_“I think I’d like to be a professional, million dollar artist! The edgy kind that gets found through doing cool street art,” Nagisa said, laughing._

_“Really?” Rin asked._

_“Yeah! Absolutely! Or, maybe a teacher. Being a builder would be pretty cool!” Nagisa beamed._

_“A_ builder _?” Rei chimed in._

_“Yeah! A builder! How cool would that be? I’d get to wear colourful clothes and do lots of hands on stuff. It sounds like a lot of fun to me.”_

_“I mean, sure,” Rei said. “I just never really pictured you as a builder. You’re just so, I don’t know, small and stuff. Soft, you’re a soft person.”_

_“Well yeah,” Nagisa agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be a builder.”_

_Rei shook his head, smiling. “You’re very headstrong. Has anyone ever told you that?”_

_“Yes. You.” Nagisa rested his head against Rei’s shoulder, giggling. Rei looked away, trying to cover up a bright blush that had spread itself across his face._

_“What about you, Rin?” Nagisa asked._

_“You mean what job?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“I thought that would’ve been obvious. I’m gonna swim for Japan!” Rin smirked, shoving a handful of grapes into his mouth._

_Makoto sat against the far wall, warmly smiling at his friends. His whole body felt heated in the comfort of their presence. Over the years he had begun to think he was capable of finding sadness in all corners of life. All corners expect for that one. His heart felt nothing except happiness and joy in those moments. His friends brought a sense of wonder and clarity to his soul that he never imagined possible. To Makoto, his friends were all these large boulders he was convinced were going to roll through life, unconquered. They made him feel indestructible. Though he would often deny it, even in those moments of strength, a small part of Makoto’s heart knew it was fleeting dream that he would not be able to catch. He knew change was an inevitable force that would wash away his happiness. In that moment though, he did not think about it too much. He just soaked in all the love and energy from his friends that he could._

_Haru came over and sat next to him. Placing his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes._

_“Are you okay, Haru?” Makoto whispered, placing his hand on his head._

_“They’re so noisy,” Haru mumbled._

_Makoto laughed. “I think they’ve just had too much sugar.”_

_“They’re not children, Makoto.” Haru replied. As he did Nagisa got up and threw a pillow at Rin, to which he responded by tackling Nagisa to the ground, spilling some of the snacks to the ground. Rei threw himself back laughing. Nagisa’s giggles floated through the air._

_Makoto leaned his head down to Haru’s ears and snickered, “Are you sure about that?”_

_Haru softly laughed. “I suppose I just never thought my world would be so noisy. Two years ago I never expected to - . . . I just never expected life to be like this.”_

_“Haru . . .”_

_“It’s nice though. Even if just a little annoying.”_

_Makoto brought his arm around Haru’s shoulder. Haru pushed into it. “It is nice, isn’t it? I’m glad you can experience it.”_

_“So am I,” Haru smiled. “I never thought it would feel so warm. Or so nice. It’s surreal having this room filled with people. I’m used to it being empty. I was convinced it would be empty by the time I made it this far in life. I was so sure of that.”_

_“You know I would never let you be alone, right? I would never leave you,” Makoto said._

_“So you keep telling me.”_

_“Only because I need you to believe me. I’m not convinced you do yet.”_

_“What makes you say that?” Haru queried, lifting his head from Makoto’s shoulder and raising his left eyebrow._

_“Well, for one thing, you constantly say how you think you’ll end up alone . . . and for another, I can see it in your eyes. They’re always filled with this type of desperation; as if you’re scared everything around you will disappear. I don’t mind telling it to you though. I have no problem telling it to you until the end of time, if that’s how long it will take you to believe me when I say I’ll never let you be alone. Even if I can’t be who keeps you company, I still promise to make sure you have someone by your side who will catch you when you fall. I swear that with all that I have, Haru,” Makoto promised. His grip was warm and tight around Haru’s shoulder._

_Haru could not help but smile. He often questioned what he did to deserve all the support he got. He questioned what made him so special. What was it that brought so many people to him? He honestly could not say. He did not think it even had to do with a lack of self-esteem. Haru was extremely self-aware of who he was and what his limitations were. He could not fathom why so many people seemed to be fixated on that. Let alone people as wonderful as the ones he had been blessed with._

_“Makoto?” Haru whispered, bring his face a little closer to Makoto, not wanting the others to hear what they were talking about._

_“Yeah, Haru?” Makoto said, turning his head down to Haru’s._

_“Why are you my friend? What is it about me that makes you work so hard?”_

_Makoto thought about it. He could see the intensity Haru had in his eyes, so he did not want to give a generic answer like ‘because I love you’, he could see that Haru needed more than that. Though, if Makoto were to be honest with himself, he had never truly put his friendship with Haru into words before. To Makoto, his friendship with Haru was not something he could fully explain with mere words. It just was. It just would be. It was never something Makoto had to categorise or explain to others, it was just an accepted force. No one had ever questioned its magnitude or its purpose. It was just understood. Makoto never thought that anyone, especially not Haru, would ask Makoto to explain something that seemed as both simple and complicated as the stars or the air they breathed. Makoto wracked his brain for the perfect – or near perfect – words to express to Haru the way his heart and soul felt about him._

_“Well,” Makoto started. “I don’t think that there is just one thing. It’s a jar filled with lots of little things,” He explained._

_“Like?” Haru encouraged, his nerves and fears eating away at his tongue._

_“I think you’re a very genuine person. I can always count on what you say to be the truth. When you truly care about something, you put your whole heart and soul into it and it’s honestly one of the most wonderful sights. You hold this level of fire in your soul that I get to see flicker and spark when something peaks your heart or your anger, and it just bursts through you. There is a, like a ball, of_ something _in you. I can’t explain what it is, but it makes me feel as though I deserve life and that I’m worth the same as everyone else.” Makoto looked away as he finished talking, too scared to look at Haru in the eyes._

_Makoto could feel Haru slightly shift against him, but he still did not move his eyes._

_“Do you really believe that?” Haru asked._

_“E-Every word,” Makoto breathed._

_Haru sat up straighter. “I just . . . I never thought of any of those things as being something someone would associate with me. I’ve never seen any of that in myself.”_

_“I’m lucky enough to see it every time I see you.”_

_“I guess I’m just having a little bit of a hard time believing it.”_

_“But why? You inspire so many people.”_

_“I really don’t think I do, Makoto. At least, not the way you’re saying,” Haru said._

_“I’m being serious,” Makoto said. “You’re the person who ignites Rin’s passion. Nagisa adores your energy. The main reason Rei even started swimming was because your skill and love of the sport inspired him. You have this unexplainable way of touching people in their hearts and giving them exactly what they need to give something their all. I really cannot explain what it is, but its most certainly there.”_

_Haru’s eyes glossed over and he smiled. It was one of those smiles that were reserved for Makoto and Makoto alone. It was one of those smiles that Makoto had tattooed over his heart. It was a rare and genuine smile._

_“I know you don’t always feel it or believe it, but you truly are an incredible person, Haru. And you are absolutely worth working hard for and fighting for. There will never come a day where I don’t believe that with all the bones in my body.”_

_In that moment, Makoto wanted to ask why Haru was friends with him. What did he possess that made him worth it? Did he too hold a secret ball of something within his heart that drew Haru to him? Was he too worth more than what he thought he was?_

_Makoto doubted it._

_He felt as if he knew the truth already, so he did not dare ask Haru if he too was worth fighting for. He did not need his version of the untold truth to become a verbalised reality. He convinced himself he did not need it. He convinced himself that all he needed was to love and support Haru. If he could be strong for Haru then nothing else mattered._

_At least, that was what Makoto wanted himself to believe._

_Nothing in life can be that idyllic though – no matter how much Makoto lied to himself._

_Instead of asking the question that his body craved to – that it had been craving to ask for years – Makoto just continued to smile down at Haru and his friends. Even if he was unsure of the future, he had tried to make himself believe it would all be okay._

_They would all achieve what they wanted. They would be immortal and infinite. They would rule the world. Makoto was sure of it. He had to be. He did not have the luxury of caving into his thoughts, not yet. If he caved life would become real. He knew that. If he lived in his world of hope a little longer then all of his friends would remain young and true and he would not have to cry over the flickering flame of life and its end._

_Ignorance and denial were his home, and Makoto was not willing to leave it. He wanted to bask in the light that was his friends’ youth and their dreams. Dipping his toes in the waves of adulthood, Makoto knew, was the first step to losing everything. However, by that time, adulthood was no longer a whimsical off-hand comment; it was a storm they were all going to be stuck in. Makoto could already feel it rumbling and crashing into the small and once thought lost and forgotten parts of their hearts and life._

_His friends’ confidence and sureness of life brought buoyancy and comfort to Makoto. They aided his lies and helped to believe that possibly they were all the exception to the rule, and their youths would survive adulthood. They helped him to believe he would not be scathed. They helped him to believe that chances were still around and youth was not a dying disguise._

_Haru placed his head back down on Makoto’s shoulder, and for a fleeting second, nothing in the world felt wrong. Nothing felt like it was ever going to change._

_Makoto felt as if he would have friends forever; it was the one lie Makoto never wanted to throw away._

_His friends were ambitious and filled with an intoxicating level of confidence and self-assurance that Makoto was powerless to feel anything other than powerful around. He happily smoked in the delusions they held towards life. He let them carry him until he had no choice but to be tugged along by life and Tomorrow’s cold touch._

_***_

Seeing them all, sadly sitting in the hospital chairs, it dawned on him how unstable the ideals of their youths were.

Sousuke raised his head and his eyes met Makoto’s. They did not look like the eyes that Makoto had become accustomed to. Makoto wanted to run forward and remove Sousuke from the situation he was in. He wanted to save him. He wanted to stop time and force all of the negative emotions that consumed him away. He wanted to do _something_ , but all he could do was stand there like a dog with its tail between its legs. All he could do was stare at the broken abyss of Sousuke’s eyes. It seemed that was all Sousuke could do too. From the way his jaw clenched it looked like he wanted to say something – or scream, or cry something – to Makoto, but for whatever reason, could not bring himself to do it.

Maybe Makoto was not welcome.

Maybe Makoto was not needed there.

He tried to push the thoughts out of his head. He knew it was not the time for him to be questioning his placement. He had to stay firm. He had to stay strong. Regardless of how the people in front of him felt about him, or thought of him, to Makoto, they were his friends. Friends of the past or present or the future, I did not matter to him. They were his friends. They were his dear, dear friends, and they needed him to be strong. Just for a little longer they needed him to be strong, so Makoto would be strong. For them he would be strong.

Softly, Makoto clenched his hands and started walking further into the room. Then a face caught his eyes and he stopped altogether. Everything in Makoto’s body was telling him to leave at that point, that he would only make things worse if he stayed.

Haru’s eyes were as wide as Makoto’s. Though, for the life of him, Makoto could not figure out what emotions were glossed over them. He used to be so good at reading Haru’s emotions, but in that moment he knew nothing. He knew nothing other than he could not move. He was stuck. His hands were slightly shaking.

What was he thinking? What good was he doing by being there? How was seeing someone he did not like going to help Haru?

Makoto never should have come. He felt that with everything he had. He did not want to leave his friends while they were in such a vulnerable and emotionally defenceless state, but he knew he should not have come. They did not need him. He would just make them more upset then what they already were. They did not need the stress Makoto brought along with him.

After looking at him for a little, Haru’s expression changed to one that Makoto knew extremely well. It was one he had seen often. It was prominent in his memories of the past – their past. It was one Makoto was not sure he ever would have seen again.

Haru started walking towards Makoto. He could feel his heart rate spike up. He was not sure what to do. He did not think there was anything he could do. Even in that moment, Makoto was powerless to the force that was Haru. _His Haru_. Makoto realised it would not matter how many years passed, or how much distance grew between him and Haru, Haru would always have a grip on his heart. Makoto would always bend to his will, and no matter what, he would be glad to do it.

As Haru got closer, Makoto could see the tear stains on his face. He could see the strain in his eyes. He could smell the distantly familiar scent of his shampoo. Makoto felt the eyes of everyone else in the room on him. They were all waiting for, anticipating, what Haru would do. Normally, Makoto would probably feel nervous or embarrassed, but his eyes were solely locked onto Haru’s. He saw nothing else but Haru.

He was right in front of Makoto.

Makoto held in a breath and waited for Haru’s next move. He was too scared to do anything of his own. Whatever happened next, whether Haru hit him or screamed at him, it had to be on Haru’s terms. Makoto knew that. Makoto had accepted that. Whatever happened had to be initiated by Haru, and whatever it was, Makoto would take it. He would not back down from it. He knew whatever Haru did, it was something he needed to do.

Makoto knew his eyes were large and scared as he waited for Haru to do what he wanted to. He did not mind though. He would have waited forever, if it was what Haru needed from him in that moment or any other. He would never mind waiting, if it were for Haru. Even if it would end painfully for himself.

Haru looked up at him, and before Makoto could think anything, he had wrapped his arms around him and buried his face into Makoto’s shoulder. The heat and weight of Haru against him was not one he had felt for years. He almost could not believe it. Makoto was not sure what he was supposed to do. He was terrified if he moved, if a single hair on his body shifted, the mirage in front of him would splinter away. Haru squeezed him tighter and began to softly cry again. His slender shoulders shook and his knees slightly bent down. The eyes of everyone in the room were still on them, but Makoto did not mind. All he could focus on was Haru. He was not sure what he was supposed to do, he was not sure what was expected of him, but he tried not to think about that. He tried not to think about all the ways he could destroy that moment. He tried to have faith that he would not corrupt it, but rather, he would enhance it.

Makoto shakily brought his arms up around Haru. At first he was soft and tentative, but as soon as he felt Haru push closer to him, all of his fears and inhabitations floated away and he gripped Haru with all that he had. He dipped his face down and cradled Haru’s head. His hair felt as soft and silky as Makoto remembered. They both let out a shaky and deep breath.

Makoto could feel his shirt being stained with Haru’s tears, and as guilty as it made him feel to admit, it was a sensation he had deeply missed.

He rubbed his hands over Haru’s shoulders and cooed soothing words. He let Haru soak up all of his strength and lean on him.

“It’s okay, Haru,” Makoto whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He could not see where that moment would take him, but he did not mind. He slowly pulled back from Haru and gripped his hand. Trying to ignore everyone still looking at them, Makoto walked over to the spare seats and lead Haru with him. Once they were seated Haru rested his head against Makoto’s shoulder and wrapped his hands around his arm. When Makoto looked down at him he noticed that Haru had closed his eyes. He was glad. The whole ordeal had probably exhausted Haru. He could not imagine how emotionally exhausting it must have been for Haru to deal with. Even if it was only for half an hour, Makoto was glad to see Haru rest and get back some of his energy.

As time rolled over them all, none of them said anything to Makoto. Nor did he say anything to them. It did not feel like a situation that should be covered or painted with words. He saw Rei and Nagisa nod off. Gou followed suite, against Sousuke. The older women, who Makoto was sure was Rin’s mother, ended up leaving for a while to grab some food. The only two minds that were awake and aware were that of Makoto’s and Sousuke’s.

Every so often Makoto would catch Sousuke turning his head forward and looking at him. Even though it was Sousuke, Makoto felt a level of intensity and unsureness in the gazes that made him feel hesitant and conflicted. He tried to pay no mind to it – he tried to focus on Haru against him and the self-assurance that it would all turn out okay. He could not imagine how or what Sousuke was feeling. So he did not try. Makoto had learnt that in life, trying to put reason or self-positions onto the emotions of others never led to a positive outcome or any redeemable emotion. Emotions were individual entities, and although they can often share common characteristics or sensations, none was entirely like the other. It would have been redundant for Makoto to try and emulate Sousuke’s emotions at that time. He knew whatever Sousuke was experiencing was his own, and any attempt by Makoto to defuse the situation by relating his own emotions to Sousuke would have been futile. All Makoto could do was hope the situation would be okay. Ultimately, that was all Makoto could do. He wanted to do more, but he did not think he could.

Haru’s breathing continued to be low and his grip loose. Makoto guessed he must have been in a deep sleep. Seeing Haru’s peaceful face made him wish that Sousuke’s face could hold the same level of tranquillity to it. He hated seeing that look of tensed confusion and stress on him. He would have gone over to him and spoken with him, but he did not want to disturb either Haru or Gou. Makoto felt as if he were stuck. He knew it would pass and he would eventually be able to talk to Sousuke and try and help him, but he had become impatient and itched to do _something_ for him.

His body and mind were twitchy and flushed with an emotion that in the past Makoto had become so accustomed to it felt entirely natural. His heart rate was slowly escalating and he felt tight adrenaline run through his body. His heart ached as if specks of shattered glass decorated it. It was the same, but more. It was so much more than what he was used to. As he looked down at Haru’s docile face, pushing back a clump of his fringe, and looking up at Sousuke’s broken eyes and pleading face, he understood why.

The weight of the room and the air around it suddenly felt unbearably thick and emotionally polluted. Makoto could feel his leg bobbing up and down. He felt the pain of responsibility crawl over him. A million things rushed through his mind. All the paths that lead to mistakes. An uncontrollable sense of blame and doubt drenched him. Makoto was convinced he had to do something, but all of his options whispered they were the wrong decision to make. Makoto closed his eyes and focused on the weight of Haru against his arm – at first he had been almost too scared to allow himself to fully recognise it, because it did not feel real. It felt like something he had stolen. He did not feel as though he fully deserved it. He was scared to grow used to it, for he was not sure how long it would last. But in that moment he needed it. He needed to feel the warmth and weight of Haru to stop his mind from spiralling into a hole he was sure he would not have the strength to drag himself out of.

Despite having no control over it, Makoto felt guilty about his emotions. He felt guilty about what part of himself they represented.

It was the same feeling that drowned him when he was younger and helping Haru, it was the same emotion that forced him to hate himself. Whenever he would tend to Haru’s self-afflicted cuts, or Haru would talk about death, or Haru would fall through the black hole in his heart, Makoto would be there to grip him back into reality, but he would always be plagued with those emotions that made him feel as though he was drowning. He would feel as though his heart was sown together with Haru’s, and they together, they would beat and pump to the same rhythm of pain and sadness. Makoto hated that feeling. It made him feel selfish. It made him feel unsure. It made him feel disgusting and unforgiveable, though he was not sure why. Not fully.

In that moment, looking at Sousuke and Haru, Makoto felt the same way he had back then.

It was made apparent to him how important they both were to him.

Gou, Rei and Nagisa also held a special and impactful place in his heart. He knew he would do whatever he could for all three of them. But his body never reacted the way it was towards them. There was something fundamentally different to how he felt towards Sousuke and Haru. It felt as if his heart had wrapped itself around their minds. He sensed more than he cared to about them. He felt more. He felt guiltier for how intensely he reacted to them.

They made him feel as if he had no other choice than to be strong.

He felt a personal obligation to never let them fall or to let them drown. There is a problem with that though. No matter what, they will fall and they will drown. Makoto would never be able to completely save them. Humans are often cursed with the desire to be heroic and protect the ones they love, sometimes more so than themselves, but protection is a mirage and an illusion. No one human can ever fully save another. It is a vicious and endless cycle that plagues human kind. It affects some more than it does others. But it is still a fundamental flaw that ends up causing indescribable pain to those who try with all they can to save others.

That was the pain that dripped over Makoto in that moment.

He wanted to protect Haru and Sousuke. He wanted them to be whole and happy. They were already broken and sad though. Nothing Makoto could ever do would make them fully and indisputably happy. Nothing.

He felt like a failure for it. He felt like he was an awful person. Then he was washed with the guilt of feeling that while they suffered.

Makoto leaned his head back and kept his eyes closed. He took in a few deep breaths.

He still felt like he had to be strong. He felt the weight of his friends’ hearts on his shoulders. They weighed more than the world.

He had to be strong. He took in another deep breath.

Ten minutes had passed, but Makoto still kept his eyes closed and his head back. His breathing had slowed to a nice rhythm. He felt Haru slightly shift against him. Makoto pulled his head up and looked down at him. He softly smiled.

“How are you feeling?” Makoto whispered.

At first Haru looked groggy and confused. He stretched and looked around the room before looking back at Makoto.

“Fine, I guess,” He mumbled.

Makoto felt a shift of atmosphere. He was not always the best at correctly reading a scene, but he had no problem reading that one. He knew that Haru was conflicted about what to do. He probably did not mean to need Makoto the way he did. He was probably unsure of what he was supposed to do, now that he was more in touch with his senses and less emotionally desperate.

Normally Makoto would have felt hurt, and he was a little, if he were to be honest, but in that moment he cared far more about Haru’s comfort.

“Would you like me to go and grab you some food?” Makoto asked.

Haru turned his head to Makoto in shock. He had not expected that. Makoto could see the questions and emotions wash over Haru’s face. Makoto tried his best to appear unfazed by it.

“Y-Yes, please,” Haru replied.

Makoto stood up and stretched before making his way back out of the room. Before he did though he cautiously and nervously walked over to where Sousuke was sitting.

“Would you like some food, or a drink?” Makoto asked softly.

Sousuke lifted his head and tightened his grip around Gou. She seemed almost childlike in his arms, curled up near his chest. Once his eyes met Makoto’s he simply shook his head.

Makoto softly nodded before walking out of the room. He moved as quickly as he could. He tried to make it look natural, but he knew he would have looked rushed and desperate. He kept his head down as he walked past the doctors and nurses and general public.

A shudder rushed over his body.

He bit his lower lips to try and keep himself composed as he kept walking. Just a little longer, he just had to be strong for a little longer, then he could break. Then he could let it go. As he walked around the white bend he saw what he was looking for and walked even quicker.

He rubbed his sleeve over his face and walked over to the glass door that lead to a small outside garden in the middle of the hospital. He pushed it open and a cool gush of air ran over him.

His throat felt tight due to the sudden change in temperature. With slightly wobbly feet Makoto took himself over to the wooden seat that was placed in the middle of the garden. The scent of mixed flowers and dirt floated through the air and dusted itself in Makoto’s hair. Small yellow lights placed on the ground shone up at him like tiny lost pearls. The sky above him was shattered and broken by the branches and leaves of the plants that arched over him. Sheltering him from the world.

Makoto felt he was finally allowed full access back to his emotions, and they took no time running out of him. He bent his head down and the tears run out of him. He took long deep breaths. He could feel all of his limitations and failures and insecurities rush over him. He felt his need to be _strong_ and _sure_ and _there_ fade out of him. Makoto let himself feel like who he was: weak.

As much as he could play at being strong for those he cared about, he knew it was only a façade. Makoto was not a strong person; he never believed that he was. He just knew he was good at pretending to be who the world expected him to be and who his friends needed him to be.

As he kept his eyes closed he tried to focus on the cool air around him. A slight wind pushed through his hair and ran down the collar of his shirt. The wooden chair felt stiff and firm under him. Makoto could feel the uneven ground beneath his feet.

Like the free and unconquerable waves of the sea, Makoto let his sadness and tears wash through his body. He let them run and crash and sizzle against his burning heart. He knew if he just gave himself some time he could go back to being the strong and dependable Makoto the world needed him to be. He just needed to give himself a bit more time. Just a bit.

As Makoto lifted his head from his knees he opened his eyes. The world around him was slightly blurred and jarring to look at it. He could feel the tears running out of his eyes and sticking to his face. Once his vision had cleared, Makoto looked out of the windowed walls that surround the garden. He saw young nurses talking to each other. He saw an elderly couple, with matching bright purple canes, walking hand-in-hand. Their smiles were so vibrant and comforting, despite being in such a dismal place. To Makoto, it seemed as if they had accepted whatever fate they had been ungraciously dealt, and chose to continue smiling at one another.

He wondered if that was what love was.

Maybe love was to continue to smile and take the world by the hand instead of pushing it away.

A couple minutes after they walked past the windows, a mother and her two children walked past them. The children were in their juice stained pyjamas, still half asleep. The mother’s mud brown hair was tied up in a frizzy and messy bun. Her anguish and pain was clearly splashed across her face. Her old jumper sat loosely around her as she quickly walked through the hallway. She held her children’s hands firmly. Even though her face and slightly trembling body showed nothing but fear and sadness, her stance and aura of purpose showed nothing but strength and a magnitude of love. As they walked past Makoto, his heart ached for them. He had no idea what awful and soul crushing news laid beyond those artificially lit walls. He had no idea where that one moment would lead their futures to. What he did know though, was that that mother was trying her best to a pillar for her two children. She was putting on a brave face and trying her best.

Maybe _that_ was what love was.

Maybe love had nothing to do with the destination or how equal something was. Maybe love was not something warm and palpable. Maybe love was not a solid confirmation of anything. Maybe, love was simply the act of trying ones best.

Maybe, love was not as complicated as Makoto had convinced himself it was.

Maybe love was just putting his best foot forward and asking for nothing in return.

Love, real love, was not a deck of trading cards; it was not something that could be exchanged or hoarded. Love was simply the act of giving someone the most important and valuable part of yourself: your effort.

Maybe it was all of that, maybe it was none of that. Makoto did not know.

Makoto sat still for a little longer and let the cool air coddle his body. He took a few more deep breaths. He stood up from the wooden chair and started making his way out of the garden.

He stopped once he saw the glass door open.

Haru walked into the garden and made his way over to Makoto. Once again, Makoto was powerless to move. He pulled his hands in front of him and softly pulled on his fingers as he waited for Haru to walk over to him.

He could not read Haru at all. Makoto hated it. He hated not being able to read the emotions on Haru’s face. His eyes were blank and no sign of anything was on his lips.

“I-I’m sorry. I know I said I was going to get you some food, I j-just –”

Haru shook his head. “It’s okay. From the way you looked I figured you’d be a while anyway.”

Makoto absently nodded his head and averted his eyes from Haru.

The two of them stood still in the middle of the garden. Neither of them said anything. It was not a comfortable silence though. It was the type of silence that ate away confidence and could be felt in the bases of their stomachs. Makoto never remembered the silence between him and Haru ever feeling like that. It was an unsettling result of their current reality.

“I think we need to talk,” Haru said, breaking the delicate layer of their silence.

Makoto kept his eyes down. He was not sure if he should agree or not.

“I don’t think now is a very appropriate time . . .” Makoto mumbled.

“I’m ready to talk now though,” Haru stated. There was a firmness in his voice that Makoto had never heard before.

“But Rin’s still – I mean he’s, um,” Makoto stuttered. He could not think clearly with Haru so close to him.

“Rin’s stable now,” Haru explained to him. “He’s not awake yet, but the doctor told us he’s okay. That’s why I came to speak to you. I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t okay. And I’m ready to talk to you. If we don’t do it now I’m not sure if we’ll be able to.”

Everything in Makoto’s body was screaming at him to run – to just leave and not break things further than they were. But he could hear how determined Haru was, and talking with Haru about everything was all Makoto had wanted for so long. He wondered why he was so scared of getting something he had wanted to for so long. He believed apart of it must have had to do with the fact he did not trust himself, that and he had built up this conversation with Haru for so long in his head, he was sure he was going to walk disappointed or more hurt then he already was. He had not been prepared to have it then, he was unsure of what he was supposed to say. But he knew Haru was right, if they did not have it then and there, when Haru was so sure in having it, they probably would never have the opportunity to have it again. At least, not authentically.

Maybe having it when both of their hearts were so raw would be a good thing. At least, that was what Makoto tried to convince himself of as he lifted his gaze and met Haru’s eyes.

“Okay,” Makoto whispered. “Okay. We can talk.”

Without any hesitation Haru shot his first question at Makoto. “Do you hate me?”

Makoto quickly shook his head. “No. Never. I’ve never hated you and I don’t think I ever will.”

“Why did you come tonight? Why . . . why were you so kind to me? I don’t understand it. You helped me like nothing had changed. You treated me like nothing was different. _Why_?”

Makoto questioned if he should have been fully honest or not. Would his honesty end up making the situation worse? Did Haru actually want to hear the truth, or did he want a diluted version of it?

“I-I came because I got a message from Sousuke . . .” Makoto started. He saw Haru’s eyes slightly shift, though his face conveyed no other emotions. “And I helped you because you’re my friend, Haru. I . . . I love you and you’re my friend. I didn’t need any other reason.”

“How can you still call me your friend after everything that’s happened?” Haru questioned, his voice slightly escalating.

Makoto rubbed his hand on his neck. “B-Because you _are_ my friend.”

“Even after everything? We’ve hardly spoken properly for years now. How can I still be your friend?”

Makoto softly sighed. “Because, to me, our friendship wasn’t – _isn’t_ – something that I could just throw away. Y-You’re too important to me, Haru. You’re too precious to me for me to just throw you away. What about you? You just came up and h-hugged me the same way you used to. Clearly I wasn’t the only o-one who held onto some-something.”

Haru moved a little closer to Makoto. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I just saw you there, and I felt like I was finally allowed to let go. I thought I could be weak when I saw you . . . I just didn’t expect you to hold me and whisper the same thing to me that you always used to. It was nice though. I really missed it. In that moment I realised how much I truly, truly missed you.”

Makoto stared at Haru. His eyes were wide and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He had not expected that. “I-I’ve missed you too, Haru. So much. I’ve missed you so much.”

Makoto brought his arm to his face, to try and cover his tears. He did not want Haru to see him crying.

He felt soft and tentative fingers wrap around it though.

Softly, Haru pulled Makoto’s arm down and looked at him in the eyes.

Nothing felt real in that moment. It had been so long since Makoto had been so close to Haru. It had been so long. He was overwhelmed with all of the emotions that were gushing through him.

“Do you think . . . do you think we can go back to how we used to be?” Haru asked. “Do you think we can be in each other’s lives again?”

A wave of tears shuddered through Makoto. He had waited so long for those words to come out of Haru’s mouth. For the longest time he had wanted nothing else other than to go back to how things used to be.

Makoto shakily nodded his head. A small smiled spread across his face and he grabbed Haru’s hands and held them in his own. Nothing but elation flooded through him.

“Now that you’re all better, we can – ”

Makoto’s smile slid off of his face. “Haru. I’m not ‘better’,” He said cautiously. He was terrified of removing Haru’s image of him, but he could not move forward only to have the past repeat itself. He could not.

“But – but I thought you were. I thought you’d figured everything out.”

Makoto shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Haru.”

“But,” Haru started, before Makoto interjected.

“Haru, listen. I-I’m nowhere near being better. I’m just not. I-I wish I was, but I’m not.”

“But, you’re not that bad are you?” Haru asked. Makoto could hear the hopeful desperation in his voice, and it broke him.

“Haru . . . I . . .” Makoto took a deep breath. He was scared to say anything. He was petrified of how he was going to ruin everything again. He knew he would, it felt inevitable, but that did not mean he wanted to.

_I’d tried to kill myself again_.

Should he tell Haru? Should he just lie and say he was okay? No.

_I’d tried to kill myself again_.

As much as he wanted to have the warmth of Haru back in his life, he did not want to achieve that dream through lies. It would do no good to either of them.

_I’d tried to kill myself again_.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Haru asked again.

_I’d tried to kill myself again_.

“Haru,” Makoto breathed. “I . . . I’d tried to kill myself again. I’m not better.”

Haru shook his head. “No. Stop. Don’t. Just _don’t_.”

“Haru . . .”

Makoto reached out to touch Haru’s shoulder, but Haru fiercely pushed his hand away.

“Don’t,” Haru spat.

Makoto was taken aback. “I . . . I-I’m sorry.”

“Why would you say _that_?” Haru quipped.

“You asked,” Makoto retorted.

“That doesn’t mean – that doesn’t mean you just tell me something like that,” Haru said. “You’re just trying to manipulate me again.”

Makoto walked closer to Haru. “No. I’m not,” His voice broke to that one of a plea. “I’m not. I swear. I wasn’t then and I’m n-not now. I p-promise.”

Haru brought his arms up around himself. His eyes looked frantic. “Why would you tell me that then?”

“I just . . . I just needed you to understand. I’m sorry. I won’t say it anymore. I’m sorry.”

Haru just shook his head and tightened his grip on himself.

Without any warning, Makoto let out a huge cry of tears. Loud hiccups and sobs ran out of his mouth. He felt as if he had ruined everything. If he had only kept his mouth shut, if only had lied, then maybe he could have held onto Haru. Maybe he could have still lived in the futile hope of being with him again. He simply wanted his friend back, but in that moment, Makoto felt as if he had burnt any bridges that may have led to his redemption. He had ruined it all. Haru would never be his friend again. He would never be in his life again.

All he had wanted for so long was to once again be with Haru, but with those few little words, with that dribble of truth, had had blocked off any pathways of love and friendship with Haru.

Even though Makoto knew he was being loud and making a scene, he could not stop himself. He could not stop the wet and hectic tears and cries that left his body. He could not keep it in any longer. He could not pretend to be strong anymore. He could not. None of it was worth it anymore. All he did was bring pain to everyone. All he did was disappoint everyone.

Haru leaving him was the proof that brought it all to life.

No matter what Makoto did, it was not good enough. He was never strong enough or tactful enough. Nothing was ever enough, but he did not know what he was lacking.

Why could he not be a better son?

Why could he not be a better brother?

Why could he not be a better friend?

Why could he not be a better person?

No matter how many kind words he told others, no matter how many times he tried to smile and help; it would never erase who he was. It would never erase who he was in his core.

A useless and unneeded human.

Through his hazy gaze and dizzy breaths, he could see Haru had gotten closer to him. He could partly see the worried look in his eyes. It did not matter though. Makoto was too far gone.

He let his crying flow and he let his breaths come out in choppy bits. He was not sure how long that went on for, but it did not matter, to Makoto it felt like a long time.

After a little while, his crying slowed down and his breathing along with it. It still came out in uneven bursts, but it was more mellow and less loud. Makoto had started to feel dizzy and broken. He dropped himself down.

Makoto sat down on the grass. His head was between his legs and he could feel his pants becoming wet from his tears. He knew Haru was still there, but he did not have the strength to look at him. He did not feel like he had the strength for much of anything.

“I-I’m sorry, Haru,” Makoto wept. “I’m s-sorry I was such a bad friend. I’m sorry I hu-hurt you so much. Oh _god_ , I’m so, sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Time went still. Both of them said nothing. It felt as if an ice block had segregated them. As if by the second they were being ripped apart, but neither had the strength to hold on. Haru felt so powerful in that moment. He felt so weak in that moment.

Knowing his actions had so much impact over Makoto’s life and mental state made him feel so _strong._ He hated it. He hated the fact that he was able to knock someone so big, so strong, and so kind, as Makoto down. He wanted to tell himself he did not know what his actions were doing, but it would have been a lie. Deep down, Haru knew that he knew what he was doing. He knew he had slowly stripped Makoto of all his coats, until he was nothing but a chipped and weathered down window pane. Makoto tried to let the weather and storms of his life simply run off his windows, but with no one looking after him, of course it would damage him. Of course it would break him. Haru was not proud to admit that he knew that. He was not proud of any of it.

He was ashamed he ever called Makoto his friend. He felt the burnt charcoal of his guilt harden and stick to the base of his stomach. He did not know where he was supposed to go. Was he supposed to run back and try to reach the Makoto he left behind all those years ago, or, was he meant to slow down and walk with the Makoto that had clawed his way to where he was now? Was there truly anyway he could amend what he did? Did he deserve the time to fix it? Did he even have the right to admit what he did?

Haru felt lost. He felt confused. In the past Makoto would have helped him choose the right decision, he would have made him own his emotions and thoughts. _That_ Makoto was not around anymore though. _That_ Makoto was long gone.

Haru had to find the strength to fall. He had to find the strength to fight without the aid of anyone else.

Like a wilting flower, Haru’s composure came apart. He could not hide himself from the damage he had contributed to. He could not. He did not want to.

The last of his petals fell to the ground.

“Makoto. . . I’m- I’m sorry.”

Makoto lifted his head in surprise. His face still wet with tears.

Haru looked away from Makoto’s eyes before continuing. “It- it was _so_ hard to see you like that. None of us knew what to do about it. We were all so used being the ones with the problems that we just honestly didn’t know what to do about yours,” He explained. “We thought, well, we thought if we just gave you time you would work it out yourself. At the time I don’t think any of us wanted to see how bad it was for you. It was so obvious that you were in pain – but, but, it was so selfish, but none of us wanted to have to deal with it. It just seemed like too big of a burden to carry. Rin and I were focusing on our swimming and w-working on our relationship; Rei and Nagisa were working hard to get where they wanted to, and it just felt so much easier to leave you behind. You felt like dead weight. We didn’t want to leave you, not fully, but it was the easy way out. So we did. We didn’t want to have to deal with you.”

Haru turned his face back to Makoto’s, who was red faced with tears and a running nose. Small hiccups were dribbling out of his mouth. His face shot Haru down. He felt so malicious. That broken looking face almost made Haru stop. _Almost_. He knew he had to say it though. If he did not get it out in that moment he never would. He had to be selfish one last time. He had to be brave.

“I want to say we did it for the right reasons,” Haru whispered. “But we didn’t. We were selfish. _I_ was selfish. I felt like I was a bad person for not returning your feelings. I couldn’t cope with everything you were dealing with. I felt like you telling me about your problems was going to drag me back down into my own. I was so scared. I never wanted to go back to that person I used to be. I still think I was right in not wanting to deal with your problems, but I know I went about it the wrong way. I know I purposely ignored all of your signs – I was so far in denial, because I didn’t want to admit to myself that I couldn’t depend in you anymore. After a while I just started to convince myself that I didn’t do anything wrong. I just couldn’t face the reality of the situation. I didn’t want to admit that the man I called my best friend and support was tied to me by something as dark and bitter as the state of my mind. I thought that was such an awful thing for us to have in common. I hated thinking that I might have made things worse for you by always talking about my own problems to you. I was just so upset and scared and I didn’t want to deal with any of it anymore. So I pushed you away and took our friends with me. I didn’t know how to cope with everything I was feeling and everything you were feeling. I just – I’m not good at handling people, Makoto. I know I’m not. I’ve always had someone to forgive me in the end. Even if I worked for it, and I struggled thinking I would not achieve what I wanted to, I ended up getting what I wanted. I guess I just didn’t think about my actions. _No_. That’s a lie. I did know, I just didn’t want to think about it. No one wants to admit they are the bad guy or they messed up. It hurt me to let you go though, it did. It just seemed like the best thing to do at the time. If we all cut ties with you, it would be easier to not feel guilty. At least, I think that was how we viewed it,” Haru’s voice had become soft, his words scattered through his breaths. “I’m _so, so_ sorry though. Makoto, I really need you to know how sorry I am,” Haru bent down to Makoto’s face. Tears now covering his own cheeks too. “I’m sorry, Makoto. You don’t have to forgive us; you don’t have to forgive me. But I want you to know I’m sorry. I stuffed up, and you never deserved it. You _never_ deserved it. I’m sorry I never listened. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I couldn’t return your feelings. I’m just – I’m _so_ sorry, Makoto.”

Makoto did not respond. He just brought his shaking hand up to his face, in an attempt to muffle the cries escaping his lips.

Haru slowly sat down next to him. He waited, and he would wait for as long as Makoto needed him to.

After finally allowing himself to admit he was wrong and he had been doing an awful thing, Haru’s chest felt lighter. It was so hard for him to admit it. He had been in denial for so long he started to believe his own lies surrounding is heart and Makoto. He no longer felt like he was carrying a horrific secret. The only weight he felt in that moment was the weight of his friend’s _need_ , and that was a weight he was happy to start carrying. It was a weight he was prepared to carry forever.

It was a weight he knew would not have been so heavy if he started carrying it when he was supposed to.

He would not drop it though; he did want to ever let it hit the ground like it had in the past. Even if he was the only one who had to carry it, he was happy to do it for Makoto. Even if Makoto started to walk in front of him and Haru had to see himself be replaced or ignored, he would not drop the heart of his friend. Haru knew Makoto would never do that though, he would never push someone away in the same manner he had been pushed away. Makoto had a soft and delicate heart. Haru would not be the reason it shattered.

Not again.

_Never_ again.

Time had swallowed the two boys up. They may have been adults, but to their town, and to their hearts, they would always remain as the little boys who took on the world together.

They would always be those little boys who were tied together, infinitely, through the glowing bond of their brotherhood.

Even if the strings needed a little mending.

Their memories were scattered through their little town. Through their little home. They both may have gotten lost over the years, and broken down a few walls that needed to stay standing, but their love ran deeper than even they realised. It was built on more than attraction and the soft touches of lips. They may have drifted apart to different paths in their life, they may have wounded each other, but the salt and the warmth of their long running love would fix that. It always did. It always would, if they were both willing. They may have had a long way to go to get where they wanted to be, but they would get there. Friendship was a funny thing that way.

Love was a funny thing that way.

It often hid behind clouds and broken hills, but if you were patient, it would come through again. True love never went away, even in times of darkness and inevitable pain; love will always find its way back to the light. There would never be a force strong enough to remove the soft tenacity that was love. Love will always be painful, but it will piece together the shattered hearts of the world until they can beat together as one unified heart. As lonely as love can feel, it is always unified. _Always_. No heart ever truly beats all on its own.

“My problems aren’t just going to disappear,” Makoto mumbled. His was voice hoarse, pulling Haru’s head towards his own. Both of their eyes were puffy and glossy from frustration and tears. The release of years of tension and sadness covered their atmosphere.

“I know.”

“I’m still angry at you – at all of you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“I know.”

“I don’t _want_ to forgive any of you either . . .”

“I know.”

Makoto moved closer to Haru’s side.

Haru tentatively put his arm around him.

Even though the atmosphere was thick with years of broken thorns and damaged hearts, both of their bodies simultaneously started to relax. The years past and the years yet to come washed over them. Cleansing them of their mistakes and stumbles. The scabs and open sores on their souls were thumping and drying. In that moment, in those seconds, those minutes, those hours, those _years_ , a tranquil feeling of _can_ and _will_ rang through their ears. The _how_ and the _why_ were not important. Not in that moment. That moment was only full of possibilities and healing. It hurt both of them to touch; it stung both of their fragile hearts, but it felt like movement. It felt like closure.

It felt like new beginnings and second chances.

“I still want to be your friend,” Makoto whispered.

“Me too,” Haru whispered back.

***

_Hide and seek had been their favourite game for a while._

_The sun beamed down on Makoto as he ran through the tall and brown grass. It brushed across his chest as he ran long the ground. Every so often he would turn his back and see his mother and father sitting on top of the hill, the sun bright behind them, eating their lunch._

_The rich scent of spring and soil filled the air._

_A huge smile was across Makoto’s face as he continued to run. He kept his hands out in front of him as he ran, to help push the grass away._

_In the distance Makoto saw a small spot of black smudge move. He grinned._

_Running at full speed, Makoto aimed for it. He ran as fast as his legs would take him. His smile still remained on his face. As he got closer he could help but softly giggle to himself. In his head he counted to three before pouncing on it._

_“Ahhh!” Haru giggled as Makoto wrapped his arms around his shoulder._

_Makoto laughed and pushed his cheek against Haru’s hair. “I found you! I found you, Haru!” His bubbly laughter was caught in the wind and sprinkled over the field._

_***_

Makoto was not sure how long he and Haru stayed like that, with their heat rubbing off onto each other, but he did not care. He was just glad he could feel the heat of him once again. It was a soft and comforting warmth. There was nothing overtly distinctive about it, yet Makoto could not think of anything similar to it. It felt like his past and his future wrapped up into one.

He felt Haru push into him slightly, and he reciprocated it.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, before the door to the garden opened up and Sousuke and Gou walked in. Haru stood up immediately and went over to Gou. Makoto saw them exchange a few words before running out of the garden and back in the direction of Rin’s room.

Sousuke walked over to where Makoto was sitting.

Makoto stood up slowly and coughed before speaking. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Rin just woke up is all. He wanted to speak to Haru.” Sousuke started walking towards the door of the garden and Makoto quickly followed. Before he opened the door Makoto grabbed his wrist and stopped him. He saw the strained look on Sousuke’s face in the reflection of the door. Makoto swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Sousuke, I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner. I'm so sorry. There was no excuse. Are you okay?”

Sousuke turned around to face Makoto. A mix between a frown and a smile cracked across Sousuke’s face. He lifted his hand placed it on Makoto’s neck. His fingers lightly brushed his cheek. A small part of him looked relieved and calm. Makoto was glad. It was a much more pleasant look then the one he had when Makoto first came to the hospital.

“I know why you didn't come . . . but I still expected you to, even though you didn't have to. You didn't have to at all, but you still did. I'm sorry I had that expectation of you. I shouldn't have, but I still did. I'm still so thankful you came though. Thank you so much, Makoto. Even if this is fucking wrong of me to say, thank you for not making this about you. There are so many people out there that will always end up flipping someone's problems to include themselves. They always fucking take the time away from your own pain so you don't even get to feel it or complain about it. Thank you so much for not doing that, Makoto . . . thank you for letting me be selfish and be sad right now without having to worry about anything else. Thank you for not stealing my grim spotlight.”

“Sousuke . . .”

He tightly gripped Makoto's shoulders and slightly pulled him up so their heads were completely level. Makoto saw himself reflected in Sousuke's lost and broken eyes. His eyes were red rimmed and his face was strained. He felt his grip tighten. Makoto was softly pushed against the glass wall, but he did not break eye contact with Sousuke. He saw something wither away and snap in those eyes, and before he realised it, Sousuke had brought his head down and placed it on Makoto's shoulder. His head turned to the side and Makoto could feel his nose pressing, warmly, against his neck. Cautiously, Makoto flattened his feet and brought arms up to the back of Sousuke's head and slowly stroked his hair. He closed his eyes and focused on the weight of Sousuke against him. He was not sure how long they stayed that way, but Makoto would have stayed like that forever if it was what Sousuke needed.

"I can do it by myself," Sousuke whispered.

“What?”

“I can do it by myself. I can be strong and I can hold on, I can do it. I can carry all my own weight, but I don't want to. I can do everything for myself, I don't _need_ anyone else. I can be alone. But I don't want to be. I don't want to have to carry everything by myself. I want someone to lean on,” Sousuke mumbled, pressing his face further into Makoto.

“I'm here. I'm here, Sousuke. I'll carry whatever you need me to. I’m your friend and I'm here.”

Makoto continued to cradle Sousuke until he saw Gou coming around the corner. He slowly let Sousuke go and tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Once Gou walked in she turned straight to Sousuke. “Rin wants to talk to you,” She said. “Only if you’re up to though.”

A smirk spread across Sousuke’s face, Makoto could tell it was forced. “It’s about fucking time that he speaks to me. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

As the three of the walked back, Makoto kept a few paces behind Gou and Sousuke. He still felt slightly out of it from before, and he was still emotionally drained. He did not want Gou and Sousuke to realise though. Even if his body was in pain from it, he was glad. Because it felt like the first step towards something better. It felt like the first step to things going back to what they used to be. Even if only a little bit. So Makoto pushed past the fact that he felt drained and tired. Because it was proof. It was proof of possibilities.

“Will you come with me?” Sousuke asked.

Makoto looked up, shocked. He had been so locked in his head that he had not really paid much mind to the others. “What,” He asked.

“Will you come with me to see Rin?” Sousuke repeated. “I don’t want to go alone.”

“Oh – yeah, of course.”

Sousuke smiled. “Thank you.”

They followed the doctor down the hall until they reached Rin’s room.

“I’ll just wait out here, okay?” Makoto asked.

“Okay,” Sousuke replied as he walked into Rin’s room.

Makoto leaned against the wall outside of Rin’s room. He tried his best to focus on other noises other than the ones coming out of Rin’s room. He did not want to pry onto their privacy. Though Sousuke was not the softest spoken person ever.

They seemed to move through an array of emotions. Makoto could hear laughing and then before he knew it he could hear Sousuke crying. He had to fight against every bone in his body not to go into the room and see what was wrong. He knew it was probably good that Sousuke was crying – that he was getting out all of the poisonous emotions that had stuck around his heart as he waited for news on Rin. It still hurt him to hear them though.

After around ten minutes Sousuke came back out of the room and smiled at Makoto. Makoto softly smiled back.

“You okay?” Makoto asked.

“Yeah,” Sousuke smiled. “Rin would like to talk you. Just for a little bit.”

“Me?”

Sousuke nodded.

“O-okay.” Makoto felt uneasy. He pulled on his fingers as he slowly walked into Rin’s room.

Rin turned his head and weakly smiled at Makoto. Makoto did the same.

Rin’s hair was sweaty and stuck around his face. His monitor beeped and the noise filled the room. A drip was attached to Rin’s arm – his skin was slightly bruised where it had gone in. A small tube was also pushed in through his nose. A piece of white tap stuck it down across his cheek.

“Hey, Makoto,” Rin murmured. His voice was slightly slurred, but still held the cheeky tone it always had.

“H-Hey, Rin,” Makoto said. He sat down on the seat next to Rin’s bed, so Rin would not have to raise his voice too much.

“Don’t look so worried, Makoto. I’m not gonna bite,” Rin laughed. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Makoto sat up straighter. He was confused. “Thank you for what?”

“Haru told me about what happened today. You were still there for him, even after everything. You didn’t have to, I wouldn’t have blamed you, but you still did. You’ve always been there for Haru, even when he wasn’t aware of it. I’m thankful for that. I really am. I know none of us have treated you the best, Makoto. Everything just got so messed up and you ended up drawing the short straw. I never tried to find out the whole story and neither did Rei or Nagisa. We just sort of acted. I’m truly sorry about that. We were all so caught up in Haru’s pain we forgot he might not have been the only one feeling hurt. I’m glad you and Haru have had a talk though. I know things will never really be the same, but I think Haru wants to try and make things better. I know I want to try and make things better.”

Even though he was starting to cry again, a huge smile bloomed across Makoto’s face. A melancholic happiness cradled him. He had never realised that he wanted to hear those words. He never knew they were something he needed to hear. He was so glad he got to hear them.

“Thank you, Rin,” Makoto effused.

Rin held out his hand and Makoto took it. Rin affectionately squeezed his hand.

As Makoto got up to leave, Rin spoke to him again. “Thank you for always looking out for those I care about, Makoto.”

Makoto smiled. “You too.”

He and Rin had never been extremely close. Not even when they were younger, but their hearts seemed to be joined by those they kept in it. He never truly thought about the emotional ties he inevitably held with Rin.

Sousuke smiled at him as he walked out of the room.

“Ready to go home?” He asked.

Makoto nodded.

When they made their way back out to where the others were, they saw that Rei and Nagisa had already gone home. Haru was talking to Gou.

“Gou,” Sousuke called out.

Gou turned her head and went over to them.

“Makoto and I are gonna leave now. You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” She smiled sleepily. “Mum’s just gone to get my dinner now. We’ll be leaving with Haru in a bit later.”

“Okay,” He said. Sousuke bent down and gave Gou a large and strong hug. “Just give me a call if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. You too, okay?”

“Okay,” He grinned.

Before they walked away Makoto turned to Haru and waved. “B-Bye, Haru.”

Haru returned the wave. “Bye, Makoto. I’ll see you around.”

Makoto could not help the smile that spread across his face as he nodded his head.

Makoto and Sousuke walked out of the hospital to Sousuke’s car. The car park was packed with lots of cars; there were almost no free spaces left. Makoto could see that Sousuke’s composure was starting to break down, but he said nothing. He was worried if he said something he would tip Sousuke over the edge. Once they got back home, he would be there to catch Sousuke as he fell apart. They just had to get home first.

Once they got into the car, Makoto could feel that Sousuke was still walking on a fine line, so he tried to get him talking.

“How’d you manage to get the car? I thought it was your mum’s.”

“Oh, yeah I was actually at her house when I, um, when I found out. She let me take it so I could get here quickly.”

“Would you like me to go with you when you return it then?”

Sousuke smiled, Makoto could clearly see it was a very forced smile. “Sure, if you want.”

The road was practically empty as they drove along it. The reflections of the street lights ran along the car’s windows. With the small lights on the black road, it almost looked like they were driving along the sky. Makoto turned his head to Sousuke and saw how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel, and how his jaw was clenched.

“Sousuke, I think we should pull over. You don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine.” Sousuke replied.

Small tears started to run down Sousuke’s face and Makoto knew that he had already cracked. The release of the situation was hitting Sousuke, and his body had reached its emotional limit.

“Sousuke,” Makoto said as firmly as he could. “You have to pull over. Now.”

Sousuke looked as if he was about to argue the request, so Makoto repeated himself.

“Now, Sousuke.”

Sousuke flicked on his blinkers and pulled to the side of the empty road.

Once the car had stopped Sousuke’s tears came out freely. He brought his hands up to cover his face. Makoto unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. He quickly made his way around to where Sousuke was seated and opened Sousuke’s door. He knelt down and placed his hands on Sousuke’s leg. He rubbed it soothingly.

“I-I was so fucking scared. I thought I’d lost him. Oh god, Makoto, I was so scared I’d never see Rin again,” He wailed.

Makoto brought his arms up to Sousuke’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“And the worst part,” Sousuke sobbed. “Is that it’s my fault. It’s my fault he’s in there.”

“That’s not true,” Makoto whispered.

“It is! I knew he was having heart problems. I knew he was. I told him to stop swimming for a while. I told him to stop stressing over Haru so much. I told him to get help, but I didn’t push him hard enough. I didn’t do enough, and he ended up here, and I almost lost him. _Fuck_.”

Sousuke buried his head further into Makoto’s neck. Makoto never loosened his grip. He held Sousuke as firmly as he could.

“It’s not your fault,” Makoto said. “I know you must’ve been scared. I know it hurt you, but it’s not your fault. And he’s okay. Sousuke, Rin’s okay. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s still here. Okay?”

Sousuke nodded his head.

Makoto could feel Sousuke’s breathing level out. Sousuke gripped Makoto tighter.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Makoto asked.

“Just hold me a little longer. I don’t want to go. Not yet.”

Makoto smiled. “I can do that. We don’t have to go yet.”

In cold night air, Makoto continued to hug Sousuke. He felt the weight and heat of his precious friend against him. He soaked up all of the pain from Sousuke’s heart that he could. After all, it was the least he could do.

He may never be able to save his friends, but that did not mean he would stop trying. It did not mean he would not give them all the strength that he could.

 

_Let me love you,_

_in the ways_

_you will not let you love yourself._

_Let me give you my strength,_

_Let me give you my eyes,_

_please,_

_just take a second,_

_to view yourself in my light._

_Let me give you_

_my courage to cry._

_But also,_

_my tenacity to grow._

_Let my hands guide yours, over your heart,_

_so you may feel the gods_

_as I do._

_Let me teach you to smile about yourself._

_And pull you through my dreams of you,_

_so you may learn what pride and confusion tastes like._

_Watch,_

_as I trace your eyes and lips_

_so that you may see_

_what the brush of an artist would crave._

_Please,_

_softly smell my neck,_

_so you may get the scent of your cheeks._

_Let me pull you_

_to the mirror we share._

_So you can see,_

_My Love,_

_it was you all along._

_Please,_

_learn all that you are,_

_so you may find a love_

_equal to that of your own._

_I have taught you,_

_My Love,_

_do with it what you will._

_Knowledge is power._

_Knowledge of yourself,_

_My Love,_

_is mesmerizing._

_Become the Utopia that you have for me_

_for yourself._

_Do not fear,_

_if your heart remains on your sleeve_

_to match that of mine._

_No one will steal it from you,_

_because you wear my own._

_And you are the only one who wants it._

_I fear though,_

_someone may steal yours from me._

_Please_

_Let them._

_If they are loving enough_

_to pry it from my soul,_

_they are more deserving than I_

_of holding your truth._

_Just promise not to throw mine away._

_Keep it on your wrist –_

_so you may check the time of_

_My love past._

_My love coming._

_My love forever flowing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter!! 
> 
> Gosh, this one got a little intense. I was so worried about how I was going to write this one, aha, so I am glad I finally have it done. I was super happy to finally write Gou as well, even if she was not in it for a super long time. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your support! I hope you all have a wonderful day! :) <3 <3


	15. Nights Of The Future/ One Finale Kiss For Who We Used To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when things change, Makoto feels himself stuck in a place of melancholy that he cannot seem to remove himself from. However, something starts to change in the way he views those in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: This is the updated version. Hopefully all of the embarrassing errors are gone now! Ahahah. 
> 
> Hello hello! Thank you all so much for reading this chapter! It means the world to me. I am so sorry it took longer to get out, but I had two whole weeks where I was sadly unable to write. But on the plus side, it is pretty long chapter! :D  
> Thank you all for your wonderful support. <3 <3 
> 
> (PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS) 
> 
> As always, if I miss a trigger warning please let me know and I will add I as soon as I can. :)  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> \- Heavy mentions of SUICIDAL THOUGHTS  
> \- Medication mentions  
> \- Anxiety Attack (small)  
> \- Heavy mentions of depression  
> \- EXTREMLY NEGATIVE REMARKS ON BODY / Fatphobia  
> \- Acephobia  
> \- Homophobia  
> \- Rejection from family due to mental illnesses and sexuality  
> \- Self-hatred  
> \- Friend Rejection  
> \- Mentions of ED tendencies 
> 
>  
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, but merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in these situations face, both externally and internally.
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day and enjoy the chapter!! :)

**Question One:** What does it mean to live?

Makoto had been fourteen when he first thought of killing himself.

It had been somewhat of a fleeting thought. He had not been completely prepared for it, but when he had it, it made a great deal of sense to him. The thought of having to wake up every morning for the rest of his life was one that seemed to concern him more.

**Question Two:** Was it about success?

Makoto had never been the type of person to come first, second or even third in something. He was not what the world would dub as an achiever. Even at the young age of fourteen, he was aware of the fact that was most likely not going to change as he got older. He never succeed in anything he did, he just did what he had to. He had never tasted the pure bliss of glory, and he was convinced he never would. Makoto felt average in almost every way imaginable. He was an average person that felt as if he was constantly surrounded by extra-ordinary people. He felt left behind and unneeded, even at that age. He had nothing to offer the world that it had not already been offered. Even still, a part of him wanted to enjoy life. Makoto wanted to smile at the world and have people tell him ‘I’m glad you’re here’. Even if he was not special or talented or needed, more than anything, Makoto had desired to feel wanted and appreciated in all of his averageness. If that could have happened, he felt as if it all might have been worth it.

**Question Three:** Was it about personal happiness, or the happiness of others?

That was why the first thought of killing himself confused him.

That was why the first thought of killing himself made all the sense in the world.

Makoto never ended up telling anyone about that initial thought. He was under the impression it would not happen again. He was under the impression it was somewhat normal to graphically imagine his own death and what time it would happen and where it would happen and what people would say if they found out. For many years Makoto was under the impression that it was normal to think about it more than once a day.

He knew he was simply in denial though.

**Question Four:** What was it that defined someone as living?

Makoto had been sixteen when Haru first confessed to wanting to kill himself. His heart had been filled with dread and fear and sadness. He knew his own emotions correlated it, but still, he told himself that his and Haru’s emotions were different. He told himself Haru’s emotions were genuine and that his own were merely diluted and normal.

Even through that denial, his mind was plagued with many questions he simply did not have the answers to. He believed no one did though. It upset him. Makoto hated having questions about himself that he could not answer. It made him feel lost within his own heart. And that is a very lonely feeling.

**Question Five:** Do some people live more than others?

That feeling of loneliness manifested itself into emotions he never showed, but that he could still not handle on his own. Especially in the light of others’ achievements. Seeing others achieve, for some reason, more often than not, left him with a feeling of destitute in his stomach. It convinced him he would never be able to achieve anything of his own. He felt as if he had failed before he even tried. It always stung more when he saw the life of his dreams and disillusions reflected in the people that he passed. When he saw the person he could have been or should have been shining brightly in other people, he felt like a broken plastic toy that’s face had been melted off. He always felt guilty over feeling that way, but it never stopped him from having those feelings. If anything it perpetuated those feelings of insignificance more.

**Question Six:** Was life a privilege or a curse?

Even when he was younger, he found himself being frighted by his thoughts of wanting to die, but he also found great comfort in them on the nights his heart bled tears from the loss of the person he wanted to be and should have been. On those nights his thoughts of death were his only companion, and they understood him without him having to explain himself. They did not question his motives. They did not make him feel selfish. They made him feel in control and powerful.

If he had to be thankful of anything, Makoto would be thankful that even though those thoughts were repetitive, they were nothing more than whispers. They never managed to seep too far into his personality, so it was not obvious he was having those thoughts. It never showed on his face or actions or ability to be there for other people. Makoto was very thankful of that. Because of that he was able to be there for Haru. He was able to be a support, and without that, he did not know where he may have ended up or who he may have turned out to be.

**Question Seven:** Was anyone actually alive?

***

_The night of his graduation, Makoto did not know what to feel._

_He could see how everyone else felt. He knew how he was_ supposed _to feel, but he still did not know what he actually felt. He was almost scared to let himself feel anything too intense. All of his classmates and friends seemed to be elated at the fact they had graduated. There was a sense of bittersweet emotions sprinkled through that elation, but it was still elation none the less. They all knew where they were going and what they were doing. They felt integrated into adulthood. Weather they actually were not had been beside the point. The important thing was that they at least felt that shift, and took it happily. Makoto did not feel that shift at all, and if he had to be honest with himself, he questioned if he could feel it if he would be happy about it._

_He felt upset to be leaving Rei and Nagisa behind for a whole year before they had the chance to catch up._

_Rin and a group of his friends decided to get together to celebrate their graduation. Haru and Makoto had both been invited, but they had both declined the offer. Makoto had not been sure why Haru declined, but he was glad that he did. It had resulted in both of them heading back to Haru’s house, which for a change was not void of any other life._

_Despite being as close to Haru as Makoto was, and for as long as he had, he still did not know Haru’s parents very well, all things considered. They were often absent and almost never home. Although Makoto knew they were kind people, he could not help but feel a shred of anger towards them. He knew they were not the cause of all of Haru’s emotional turmoil, but he also strongly questioned if Haru would have turned out less damaged if his parents had been more present in his life. Maybe he would not have turned out the way he did if he did not have to come home to an empty house every other day._

_Haru’s mother had offered to cook them dinner when they arrived. They both declined and went straight up the stairs to Haru’s room._

_Once they were in his room, Haru flicked on the lights and started to take his blazer off. He loosened his tie and un-buttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. His hair lightly brushed the back of his neck._

_Makoto realized that was the last time he would ever see Haru in his school uniform. It was only a little thing, but it made him unexplainably sad._

_Haru chucked his blazer onto his bed along with his high school certificate._

_Makoto looked down at his own plastic cylinder that held his certificate. He knew he was supposed to feel proud of himself, and he did slightly, but mainly he felt lost. That small slip of paper represented all the years he had given up. It represented all of the expectations still on him. That certificate was not a token of congratulations and pride, it was a map telling him where he was supposed to go next and who he should aim to be. He felt almost sick looking at it. Even if he was still in denial, a part of him knew he would not grow to become the person that was typically associated with that certificate._

_Makoto looked up and found Haru watching him, intently._

_“Sorry,” Makoto said. “I was just a bit zoned out.”_

_Haru shook his head. “No, that’s alright. Are you okay though? You seemed really far away.”_

_“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just a bit tired I guess.”_

_“That’s understandable. Today was an emotional day. I’m pretty drained myself,” Haru said. “You can relax though.”_

_Haru sat down on the floor and began to lay himself down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Makoto took off his blazer and folded it up. He placed it down near Haru’s door and put his certificate on top of it._

_“Could you please turn the light off?” Haru asked._

_“Oh – yeah sure,” Makoto said as he flicked it off. The room went dark, but Makoto could still see where everything was. Even if he could not, he knew that room better than the back of his own hand. He would argue he knew that room better than his own._

_He walked over to where Haru still laid on the ground. He cautiously laid down next to him, so that their faces were close and their legs were facing opposite ends of the room. For a while they waded in silence. Neither of them knowing what to say. The wind outside could be heard softly pushing on the window. The idle chatter of Haru’s parents could be heard downstairs, accompanied with the sound of the television. The weight of an end hung in the air. The unsure calling of the future echoed in their hearts._

_Even if they did not know what, they both could feel the sense of change coming around the corner. They both knew something was going to change between them; after all, change was inevitable. They did not know what that change would be, so they tried not to think about it. They tried to convince themselves nothing would change. Or that if something did change, it would be soft and positive, or at the very least small and bearable._

_Makoto’s face was so close to Haru’s that he could feel the heat emitting from him and smell the rich scent of his soap. A part of him wanted to reach out and grab Haru. He would have too, if he did not feel so nervous. He and Haru had affectionately hugged and touched many times in life, so he did not know what made him so unsure in that moment. Makoto rolled over onto his side to get closer, and he saw that Haru still had his eyes closed, but his breathing was not low enough for him to be asleep._

_“What are you looking at?” Haru laughed as he cracked an eye open. A small grin was across his face. It made Makoto smile in return._

_“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”_

_Haru chuckled. “I’m not mad. – it just seems like you have something to say.”_

_Makoto thought about. Did he have something he wanted to say? Was there something on his mind? “I don’t know what I want to say,” he said, lightly bringing his hand up to touch Haru’s shoulder._

_Haru slowly rolled over so his face was in line with Makoto’s._

_“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Haru said. “You don’t seem too happy either.”_

_“I can’t decide if I’m happy or not about leaving school.”_

_Haru hummed in agreement. “I get that. I think I’m the same way. Though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little happy.”_

_“Are you going to swim professionally now?” Makoto asked. He felt as if he should have already known, but he did not._

_“I’ve been scouted. So I’d say yes.”_

_Makoto smiled. “I bet you’re thrilled about that. You’ve really earned it too. I’m so happy for you, Haru.”_

_“Thanks,” Haru said shyly. “I’m nervous about it. But I’m also excited. But I don’t know if I’m allowed to feel happy about it or not.”_

_“Why wouldn’t you be allowed to be happy? Of course you’re allowed to be happy over this. Its huge, and you’ve worked hard to get here.”_

_Haru averted his eyes from Makoto, but his body did not move. “Rin . . .he, Rin got scouted too. But he didn’t get scouted for Japan. He still got scouted for a good team though. It’s not like his talents are going to waste. But I feel like if maybe I hadn’t been scouted for Japan, Rin would have been able to. He didn’t seem upset. He congratulated me and smiled at me, but I can’t help but think I really hurt him. I’m scared I’ll lose him over this.”_

_“Is that why you decided not to go with him tonight?” Makoto asked. A small part of his heart ached at the fact Haru had told Rin before he told Makoto, but he tried not to think about it in that moment._

_Haru nodded his head._

_“Haru,” Makoto began. “Rin’s not that stupid. Yeah, he probably got hurt over it, who wouldn’t? But that doesn’t mean you’re going to lose him. He loves you. Besides, he always loved your swimming. He’d probably be more upset if you didn’t get in.”_

_“It’s always been a dream of his to swim for Japan. I feel like I took his dream away from him,” Haru mumbled._

_“Not at your expense though. I’m sure he had a bigger dream of just being able to swim with you, and you can still make that happen. You can swim with him to your heart’s content. Not to mention, just because he hasn’t been recruited now to swim for Japan, doesn’t mean he won’t be able to in the future. There are always chances and options for him. And as you said, it’s not like he hasn’t been scouted at all.”_

_Haru did not know what to say, so he simply smiled and placed his hand on Makoto’s cheek. Makoto’s face flushed in response. He was not used to Haru initiating contact like that. It felt nice._

_“Makoto?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Thank you for always being there for me. I don’t think I tell you that enough. I really should though. Thank you, Makoto.”_

_Makoto’s eyes opened wide and his mouth gaped open slightly. He had not been expecting Haru to say that at all. He never did anything in hopes of getting praise, but his heart still swelled at it. Maybe he had been craving it and searching for it more than his heart allowed him to admit._

_Oddly, Makoto was glad that Haru had said that when he did. He was glad he could still be considered ‘young’ when the person so deeply rooted in his heart could thank him for loving and caring for them._

_“That’s okay . . . I don’t think I’ve done an awful lot though,” Makoto smiled._

_Haru closed his eyes, yet his hand did not leave Makoto’s face. “Not true. I know I’ve had my problems and difficulties, but you never left my side. Even as I pushed everyone else away, I could never push you away, because you never made me feel ashamed of my problems. You just took them as they were,” Haru mumbled sleepily. “You took me as whole person. You took me entirely as who I was and you still chose to be my friend. You still chose me. I always saw that as an amazing thing, but I think I’ve only truly realized how important it was to me that you did that today. I looked at you graduating and it struck me how truly long you’ve been with me. I saw all of our years carried on your broad shoulders. It must’ve been a heavy load to carry. You still did it though. I’m sorry it took me so long to fully appreciate it.”_

_Makoto brought his own hand up to Haru’s face. Haru’s face felt warm and soft compared to his own frosty fingers. Yet Haru did not flinch at the cold touch. He simply softly smiled._

_Makoto felt so happy in that moment. Yet, he also felt like a fraud. He did not think he fully deserved all the thanks Haru had gifted to him. Makoto only ever did what he did for Haru because he loved him. He did not think he could sit there and claim his actions as heroic or selfless, since they were all done for a person he held so dearly in his heart. Maybe if he had done it for someone he did not know or did not care about he could collect all of the praise guilt free. Maybe he would have felt like he earned it._

_Was wanting to see the person you love happy actually a selfless act? Makoto did not know. He doubted it. If seeing Haru happy made Makoto happy, then surely trying to keep Haru happy was not completely selfless._

_He still thrived and glowed in the praise and thanks Haru gave him. Even if he did not feel like he had earned it or deserved it, he soaked it up. It made him happy._

_Makoto continued to look at Haru’s rested face – he felt as though he could look at it for hours without getting tired of it._

_“Thank you, Haru. Really,” Makoto whispered._

_He slowly rubbed his thumb up and down Haru’s cheek. Tips of his hair brushed Makoto’s fingers. In that moment Makoto let himself believe their lives could stay like that forever. He let himself believe that he would always be some kind of use to Haru. He let himself believe that a small part of Haru would need him._

_Makoto tried to convince himself that the tides of life would always bring them back together._

_Makoto was the unstable and crashing white foam of the vast sea, and he only felt sure of himself when he was reunited with the warm and soft sand shore of his heart, that was Haru’s soul and body. Haru gave him navigation and purpose. His job was to wash up onto Haru’s shore and drag away the pollution with him when he flowed back into the sea._

_Like the sky and the rain that fell from it, Haru and Makoto were infinitely tied together, yet constantly being dragged apart by the storms of their hearts. One day, they may land in the same pond of acceptance and self-clarity. Maybe one day they would be able to hold the reflections of each other without falling through the disillusionments of their doubts and emotional limitations. In their youths, neither of them fully realized the barriers that locked away their love and their friendship. They were none the wiser to the distance between their hearts. Only was it once Tomorrow and her cruel accomplice of adulthood had chained them to the balls of expectations and social requirements did they start to become aware of the rope they had wrapped around each other’s throats. Blistering their happiness and burning their approach to life._

_They loved each other, but life made that love as hard to grasp as evaporating water._

_In that moment though, their love and friendship still held enough youth and whimsical perfume to it that they were ignorant to the pains the future would bring. They were whole and together and warm._

_They were best friends in that moment. Possibly they always were and always would be, but in that moment there was no question to it._

_Both of their eyes were closed as the world around them continued to spin and turn. Sleep had blissfully taken them away. The years of high school were dripping past them._

_As the night continued out, Haru’s face had rolled closer to Makoto’s. His lips lightly brushed Makoto’s forehead. Neither of them were aware of it._

_Their school uniforms got wrinkled and crinkled._

_Haru had said that Makoto had helped him and guided him, and when he did, Makoto wondered if Haru knew how much he had guided him too. He wondered if Haru knew how much he had helped to block out the thoughts of death. He wondered if Haru knew his existence made Makoto think maybe he could be someone. It was unhealthy of Makoto to think that way, he knew it was, but that did not stop him from having those thoughts. It did not stop those thoughts from helping him on days he felt alone._

_After all, the way Makoto viewed it, was that if he had no talents or external purpose, at least he could be useful and ‘needed’ by being a form of support to the person he loved the most._

_Sometimes living for someone else was easier than living for oneself._

_In the end, everything reaches it limits though. Eventually, some mentalities are no longer enough. They crack. They break. They shatter. They splinter into everyone standing too close._

_Makoto’s love for Haru, and Haru’s love for Makoto, never cracked, but it did become covered in the dropped glass of their friendship and it became too sharp to pick up for a few years._

_They were unaware of that future in that moment. In that moment they were two young boys, two friends, sleeping and stepping into the shoes of adulthood together, convinced they would always be holding the others’ hand._

_***_

Laughter filled the lounge room.

The smell of cooked chicken and rice stained the walls and blended with the scent of alcohol and diluted cigarette smoke.

Nagisa continued to enthusiastically explain the ordeal he and Rei had found themselves in a couple of weeks ago. Everyone listened intently, their stomachs filled with dinner and their minds ready to think of nothing else but what was happening in front of them.

Makoto had always found Nagisa to be good at defusing the situation. He had changed a lot since high school, but Makoto still found speckles of who he used to be dusted around his face and his golden blonde hair. Rei seemed to be moving around the situation as if nothing had happened too. He wondered how much they knew. He wondered how integrated into the situation they had been. It almost made Makoto feel bad in a way. Did they both feel left out? Had Makoto done to them what had been done to himself? He hoped not. He hoped he had not dropped so low. Maybe that was just how Rei and Nagisa always were. Makoto would not have really known much better, since he had not been around them all that much over the last few years.

He was glad they were still smiling. It meant more to him then he thought it would.

It helped to convince him that everything could be fixed.

Makoto could feel the trickling warmth of redemption and friendship drip through his bones and softly cradle his heart. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe it truly could be that simple. Maybe life was not as complicated as he had convinced himself it was.

The air of friendship around the room also held a desperate atmosphere though. It felt as if everyone was trying to pretend that the last few years did not happen. It felt as if everyone were trying to pretend they had always been warm and kind and complete – as if a giant and splintering crack had never emerged. It made Makoto feel a little uneasy, but he tried his hardest not to focus on it. He had finally been given a little ledge to stand on; he was not prepared to obliterate it again. Even if it felt unnatural or uncomfortable he would continue to stand there.

He looked over at Sousuke sitting on the arm of the lounge, next to Rin. They looked like they were having their own conversation. They appeared more delicate and fragile then Makoto remembered them normally being. There was no face splitting grins or affectionate shoves. Just little smiles and soft touches. He looked happy, but Makoto could tell Sousuke was uneasy.

“Do you guys have any more cans of beer left?” Nagisa asked.

“I’m sure we do,” Rin replied. “I’ll go have a look for you.”

As he started to stand up Haru shot him a look. “No. You’ll stay put. I’ll go and grab the beer.”

Haru swiftly got up from the lounge and headed into the kitchen.

Rei laughed. “You’d think after two months his protectiveness would’ve calmed down a bit.”

“It’s sweet,” Rin said as a warm smile leaked across his face. “It’s also not even that bad anymore. You should’ve seen him the first week I came back from hospital, he was a mess. He was constantly stressing out over small things and wearing himself out. I’m glad he’s not that frazzled anymore.”

“It’s just because he loves you,” Nagisa cooed. “You should feel blessed that the apathetic Haru is putting all this effort into helping you.”

A cold can bumped into Nagisa’s head. He turned around to see Haru looking at him, and holding out his can of beer.

“I don’t appreciate being talked about when I leave a room,” Haru stated.

Nagisa laughed. “Oh lighten up! We weren’t saying anything bad, promise. We just couldn’t help but notice how much of a doting boyfriend you’ve become.”

“He’s always been a very doting boyfriend,” Rin piped in. He smiled at Haru. Haru smiled back, but Makoto felt as though that smile may not have been completely genuine.

“He’s probably never going to let you swim again,” Rei said.

“ . . . That’s not for me to decide,” Haru mumbled. “Rin can do what he wants.”

“You’re not against him swimming?” Rei asked.

Haru shrugged.

“I’ve already decided, of my own accord, that I’m done swimming. Its shit, but I know it’s what I have to do,” Rin said.

The room went quiet. It felt like a truth they all knew was coming, but never wanted to admit, had been dumped on their heads, clouding their vision. Makoto saw a sadness wash over Sousuke’s face. But it was not accompanied by surprise. Makoto was sure the two of them had talked about it. His heart panged at the pain they both felt. He did not think it was fair. He knew how important swimming had been, and probably still was, to Rin and Sousuke.

All of his memories of Rin were filled with strength and pride and determination. Even if Rin was not the best, his attitude and atmosphere always convinced everyone that he was number one. Everything Rin ever did when he was younger was done to help him get higher in the world of swimming. He had beaten himself into submission, and now he had none of it. Makoto knew that Rin would always have his memories and his past achievements, nothing could take those from him, however, Makoto also knew that memories and actions of the past were almost never enough to keep someone afloat. Humans craved the succession of the future too much to be content with what they had already done, they always needed to keep wining and achieving to stay afloat. It was a cruel truth of the human heart.

Makoto knew that Sousuke was never truly content in the actions and course of his life. He did not hate it, and some days he loved it, but his injuries and inability to move forward in the ways he had always envisioned himself doing so made it hard for him to fully accept the life he lived. Makoto knew Sousuke often longed for a life he would never be able to have. He also knew Sousuke and Rin saw the world through a very similar pair of lenses – it crushed his heart that Rin too would be forced to give up on what he wanted for reasons out of his control.

None of them said anything as they waited for Rin to continue.

“I’ll be getting back into work though,” Rin said.

“Not until you’ve rested more though,” Haru added.

Rin nodded his head. “Once I’ve got my health back to a steady spot I’ll probably end up becoming a swimming instructor or coach.”

“Oh wow!” Nagisa beamed. “That’s pretty cool! I bet that’ll be good for you. You’ll still be in the swimming scene and all, it’ll be great. Maybe you could even coach Haru,” he laughed.

“Didn’t you want to do something like that, Makoto?” Rei asked.

Makoto averted his eyes down to the ground. “Y-Yeah . . . I’d thought about being a swimming teacher for younger kids.”

“Maybe you and Rin should both teach!” Nagisa said. “That’d be pretty cool.”

“Maybe,” Makoto mumbled absently.

His chest started to feel tight. He knew all the people that room were his friends, he knew he had been invited there, he knew everyone was trying to make amends, but something felt greatly amiss. He still felt out of place. He still felt like he was not interacting with the same people that filled his memories. He felt as if he had truly lost those people forever. He did not understand why he would feel so lonely, even after he had achieved what he wanted to. For the longest time he just wanted to feel loved and included by those he called his friends, but even when he was there, he felt alone. He felt like he was not a part of their worlds, and that he never would be. He did not even know why he felt that way. They were talking to him; they were including him in their discussions. So why did he feel so out of place? Why did he feel like they were somehow lying to him? Why did he feel so alone?

Why could his heart just not accept what it had been given?

Makoto could not say why, but he felt like he would always feel that way.

He hated how he could simultaneously feel warmth and love and coldness and loneliness. His mind did not know how to process the contradictions of his heart. He did not know why he had to be that way. He was an adult, why could he not handle or understand something so fundamentally simple?

Makoto nervously tugged on his fingers in an attempt to calm himself down.

Everyone else continued to talk. Makoto smiled and tried to appear like he was following the conversation, but his mind was a million miles away. He attempted to convince himself it would get better in the future, and he would not feel so left out and lonely, but he knew he was only kidding himself. He was stuck in a lonely body for the rest of his life, and he would have to just come to accept he would never be included into the world the way the people around him were. He would just have to accept it.

“When will you guys be leaving then?” Sousuke asked. His deep and thick voice brought Makoto out of his head and back into the room.

“Hmmm, I’d say a week or two, at the most,” Nagisa said.

“That’s so soon,” Rin said. “Why’d you guys wait so long to tell us if you had known for a while?”

“We just didn’t know when the right time to say it would be. Before we came here tonight, we figured now was a good a time of any. Sorry we kept it for so long, just with everything going on we didn’t want to add more to the mix,” Rei replied.

“Tokyo’s pretty far away though,” Haru said.

“It is. But this job offer is pretty big for me, and Nagisa hates where he works. We just thought it would be the best choice for us,” Rei said. Makoto did not think he sounded overly happy, but he did not sound sad either.

“Our new apartment is really nice too. Everything considered it’s actually fairly cheap. And we’ll have a spare room, so you’ll be able to visit whenever you want to.”

Rin frowned. “We really won’t get to see much more of you guys, will we?”

Nagisa looked down at his hands. His voice was coarse and thick. “Probably not, no. But we just couldn’t stay in this town anymore. It was driving us insane. We’ve both wanted to go and live in Tokyo for a while now. We’re sorry.”

Rin shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about. It’s your lives; you need to do what makes you happy. It’s just sad is all. This’ll probably be the last time we can all see each other for a while.”

“We’ll definitely visit when we can. And we’ll try to e-mail a lot.”

Makoto’s chest felt even tighter. He knew he was supposed to say something encouraging in that moment, but he could not bring himself to utter a single word.

“Do you really hate living here that much?” Haru asked – Makoto could hear the strain and sadness in his voice. Although he was never talented at admitting it, Haru deeply relied on his friends and the feeling of being around people. Makoto knew it was a feeling that Haru craved and was addicted to. Haru would often lose his sense of rationality when it came to keeping the structure of his friends and feeling the warmth of others. Makoto was fully aware of that, especially after receiving the back hand of Haru’s emotions towards it. Makoto looked over at Haru and saw his broken and pleading eyes. They were glossed over, but he was trying to stay strong. “Do you despise this town? Do you hate being around us?”

Nagisa looked shocked. “No! Haru, that’s not it at all. We love being around you guys. We’re not leaving because we hate you. You’re all so important to us. Truly. We just – we can’t stand this town anymore. Everyone here knows everything about everyone. We don’t feel like we can leave our pasts behind and be accepted for who we’ve become. No one cares to see that we’ve changed. This place is just too small.”

“This town isn’t even _that_ small,” Haru retorted.

“Haru . . .” Nagisa whispered.

“We just want something different,” Rei tried to explain. “Tokyo has a lot to offer us. It’ll be a fresh start. I’m tired of walking past people we went to high school with and hearing them constantly bring up the past. It just rubs salt into our wounds.”

“But you won’t know anyone in Tokyo. You’ll be doing a similar job to what you have now. So what’s the point? You’ll be all alone up there.”

“Haru, please try to understand. We’ll still talk with you. Our friendship doesn’t have to change,” Rei said.

“But it _will_ ,” Haru whimpered. “It’ll all change.”

Nagisa stood up and walked over to Haru to give him a hug. Haru stood up before he could.

“I’m sorry,” Haru whispered. “I just . . . I just need some time.” He walked out of the lounge room and headed up the stairs. The room’s quiet and uncomfortable nature itched at Makoto’s skin. He looked over at Rin who was looking at him. He felt as if through that expression Rin was giving him permission to access the past. To access the version of him they wanted and needed in that situation. A small part of him did not want to. He did not want to jump back in. He did not want to be there and he did not want to try and force himself in. But the other part of him, the largest part, wanted to follow his designated lines and step in the direction that the play of his life told him he had to.

Makoto slowly stood up from the lounge and made his way up the stairs. His stomach clenched tight and his palms felt sweaty. He could feel his legs slightly shake, yet he still kept walking up the stairs. Once he reached the top he noticed the door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar.

He swallowed a lump within his throat. He clenched his fingers tightly. He took a small breath in and a small breath out. With great hesitancy, Makoto walked over to the door and pushed it open. Sitting on the floor, with his back against the bed, head down on his drawn up knees, Haru sat.

He did not look up once Makoto came in.

Makoto felt uneasy walking into the room he knew Haru and Rin shared. He felt saddened. It felt as though he was being tied to the posts of the bed they shared, forced to bear witness to all he could not be and could not have, but he pushed those thoughts away as best as he could in that moment.

He slowly sat down next to Haru. Their knees slightly brushed.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Then Haru’s crushed voice dribbled though the open air.

“You know,” Haru whispered. “I don’t know if I should be commended for the person I became or the person I stopped myself from becoming. I know I’m probably not seen as a good person. I know I’ve probably caused a lot of people to a lot of pain . . . I know that’s how I probably look to everyone. But every time I think about all the roads I could’ve gone down, all the wrong turns I was so close to making, I can’t help but feel good about myself. I know how awful I could’ve become. I could’ve been so terrible. But I stopped myself,” he explained meekly. “No one knows who I stopped myself from being. But I do. I feel proud that I‘ve stopped myself from becoming that man, but when I look at what I’m doing and how my heart hurts people, I can’t help thinking maybe who I’ve become isn’t much better . . . or worse, maybe I’ve been that man I never wanted to be all along.”

Makoto was silent. He could not think of the words that Haru needed to hear. Although his body was screaming at him not to, Makoto brought his hand up to Haru’s back and rubbed soothing circles into it.

Makoto felt as if he had been dragged back in time. It felt melancholic. He did not understand why everything had to be so difficult and convoluted. Why could life not be simple? Why could he and his friends not just be happy? Why must so many exterior factors come into play and mess up their souls and their hearts? It felt like a never ending chasing game. Makoto was tired. He was tired of playing – and playing by the rules of the world.

“Why does everything have to change? _Why_?” Haru spilled sadly.

“Haru,” Makoto whispered. “Sometimes good things can only exist for a moment. Sometimes they aren’t meant to be dragged along or reimagined. It hurts, but it doesn't make them any less meaningful.”

“What else has to change? What else has to disappear? You and I’ve only just started talking again, and now Rei and Nagisa have to leave. Rin can’t swim anymore. I just – I hate this all so much. I hate not being able to be certain about anything. I’m tired of it. Everything just hurts too much. I feel like I’m floating above everyone and all I can do is hurt them,” Haru lamented. “ . . . I always wished I could’ve been more like you, Makoto.”

“ _Me_?” Never in his life had Makoto ever heard someone say that. Never in his life did he think someone would ever say that. He was bewildered beyond words.

“You’re so kind, Makoto. You just take the world as it comes. Even after everything that happened between us, you still took me back. You still came to hang out as if nothing had happened. You still came to see me when I walked away. I wish I could do that. I wish I could be as kind and forgiving. I know I don’t deserve all that you’ve given me. I don’t. But I take it anyway because I’m scared. I was scared so I pushed you away. I was scared so everyone else pushed you away. I was scared so I pulled you back. My fear just toys with you – with everyone. But I can’t help it . . . life just terrifies me so, _so_ much”

“Haru . . .” Makoto began. Before he could continue Haru started speaking again.

“It’s even scarier when I know I’m above certain people. I never thought I’d despise having talent in things that I love so much,” he explained, his voice hoarse. “It’s pretty lonely at the top. Seeing everyone else below you and just knowing you have something they won’t ever have, is lonely. Very lonely. The expectations are lonely. After a while your achievements don’t feel good and prideful, they feel conceded, or like something you should be ashamed of having. I never liked being on top of anything in my life, yet I can’t seem to stop. It’s an endless cycle that I despise being trapped in.”

A few tears welled up in Makoto’s eyes. His Adam’s apple felt lodged in his throat. “I’m so sorry to hear that you have been feeling that way. I truly am. I know feeling lonely is something so destructive, it starts to feel like the plague. But I understand, at least, I think I do a little bit. It’s pretty lonely being at the bottom too, and seeing how far above you everyone else is. I sometimes feel as though the only ones who don’t feel that isolation and loneliness are the ones in the middle. Though, I suppose some of them would view themselves as above or below a lot of other people too. Maybe everyone is lonely. Just not everyone wants to admit it. Maybe the reason those at the top and the bottom feel it so much is because they feel as though they have nothing else to lose by admitting it, but those in the middle feel like they might remove the image of their worlds if they think about it too much.”

“Do you really think everyone is lonely?” Haru asked.

“I think some people feel it more than others, but over the years I’ve come to realise loneliness isn’t something people experience alone.”

Haru wiped the tears away from his eyes and leaned his head against Makoto’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for all the loneliness I’ve caused you. I never . . . I never meant to hurt you so much. I’m so lost within myself, Makoto. I don’t know how to be strong. I can’t be strong like you. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’m scared to let the world see my heart.”

“I think you show the world more of your heart then you think you do, Haru. Someone’s heart doesn’t come out in one big show. It’s something you scatter around your world slowly over a lifetime. All those people downstairs have seen your heart over the years and they feel drawn to it. They’ve shown you their hearts in return. The whole world may not accept your heart, but _your_ world, your friends, love your heart the way it is.”

Haru shook his head softly. “How can you be so kind? How can you be so good? After all these years, how’re you able to still be that same little boy who used to hold my hand?”

“I-I don’t know . . . I’m not that good though. I’ve had dark and vicious thoughts cloud my mind more times then I care to count.”

“If anything that proves my point even more,” Haru replied. “You just let the world see you. I don’t know how to do that, I feel like the world sees me too much of who I am and not enough of who I’m trying so hard to be.”

“I think it is only normal to want the world to see you as the person you think you should be. I don't think too many people want to be seen as who they are. I don’t like the world seeing me at all. I feel like no matter what I do, they are going to see a version of myself I hate. But . . . I think there are so many version of me out there. Everyone probably sees me as someone else. Some people probably view me better than I view myself and others worse. It’s scary not knowing what version of me people are seeing.”

“It’s too scary,” Haru said. “I can’t stand it. I hate not knowing who I am. Because I don’t think it matters how I view myself, because if everyone else around me sees me as someone else entirely, it doesn’t matter at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Makoto whispered. “How you see yourself is just as important. Others might start to see you in the same way if you believe in yourself long enough.”

Haru shook his head. “I can’t. Life won’t give me a chance to do anything.”

Makoto tightened his grip. “You know, the other day my therapist told me something. She said, ‘I don't think there is ever a time where life will give you a chance; but I do think a time will come where you can give life a chance.’ You might find things to be lighter if you allowed yourself to give life a chance, instead of waiting for life to give you the ball.”

“I want to. I want to just _be_. But it takes too much out of me. All my thoughts end up getting consumed by everything around me. I feel like it costs me too much,” Haru said.

“Sadly, I think the cost of life comes at a great misfortune. Most people are just too righteous to notice. The debt of life then falls onto those they have pushed below them,” Makoto replied. “I don’t think that’s something that will ever really go away.”

“You know,” Haru mumbled. “I often think there is little hope to those who cannot see their own flaws; I think there is less hope for those who see them well. I think that’s the situation I’ve found myself in. I just don’t have any hope left. I’ve used it all up.”

A few lose tears started to fall from Haru’s eyes.

“That’s not true,” Makoto choked.

“I-It is. I’ve pushed everyone around me too far. I pushed you down into the dirt. I honestly don’t know why Rin is still with me, I’ve caused him more trouble then I’m worth and I’m sure Rei and Nagisa hate me now. My personality just hurts people, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m in too much pain to stop, even though I want to.”

With a shaky grip, Makoto brought Haru’s head towards him. He lightly kissed him on the forehead then placed his head on top of Haru’s. “You remind me of a distant dream; I take great comfort I being around you. I can’t explain it, but I get the same feeling in my stomach that I did when I was a boy and I excited when I see you. It’s a wonderful feeling, it truly is. Everyone knows who you are, and they still want to be your friend, Haru. People aren’t as weak as you make them out to be. Your friends are still with you because they want to be. Rin is still with you because he wants to be and because he loves you. We all love you. Whatever version of you we see, it is one we love and want to be around.”

Heavy tears started to fall out of Haru’s eyes. He tugged and held onto Makoto as he shoved his head into his soft and broad chest. Makoto felt his shirt getting damp from Haru’s tears, but he did not mind. He felt a wave of need and validation roll over him. He forgot how addictive it felt to be needed by someone. He forgot the rush of pleasure it gave him to have someone depend on him. Makoto slightly felt like a fraud, but for the most part he felt useful. He did not care what he had to sacrifice of himself; he was just relieved to be greeted with that long lost feeling once again.

The two of them sat in silence. Their breathing synced and they bathed in the warmth of one another. Makoto truly felt like he had been teleported to the years of his youth. It made him feel both connected and disconnected.

They stayed like that for a while, before Makoto heard the creaking of the stairs. He looked up at the door and saw everyone slowly coming in. Makoto nudged Haru, softly. As Haru sat up and opened his eyes, he was taken aback when he saw the faces of his friends walking towards him.

“N-Nagisa, Rei,” Haru started. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to –”

Before Haru could finish, Nagisa ran forward to him and bent down to hug him. Hesitantly, Haru wrapped his arms around Nagisa and hugged him back. He let out a small breath of relief. Makoto looked up and saw Rei and Rin starting to bend down towards them too. They sat down on the ground and wrapped their arms around Haru, Nagisa and Makoto.

Makoto could feel all of their warmth and their love, but he knew none of them were directed at him. He was simply there. His heart grew and thumped as he saw Haru smiling at their friends’ affections. He was so glad. Makoto was happy Haru was able to see how much their friends loved him. He was glad to see Haru become aware of how important he was, and how far they would all go for him. Despite feeling that happiness for Haru, Makoto could not stop the panging of his heart. He felt cold and distant against the warmth of his friends. He felt like he had been robbed of something.

“We’re sorry this hurt you, Haru,” Rei said. “I know things will change, and I’m sorry about that, I really am. But I promise our friendship will never change. Nagisa and I both love you so much. We’ll never stop being your friend and we’ll never stop loving you. We’re never going to leave you and Rin behind.”

Haru smiled. It was the type of smile that pinched his cheeks and made his face glow. “Neither will I. I’ll never stop loving either of you. I promise I’ll work hard to stay in touch with you and Nagisa. I will.”

A sense of hope and certainty washed over Nagisa, Rei, Haru and Rin. They did not know it at the time, but that hope and certainty was a supper they had long been craving to eat.

Makoto moved his eyes to the door and saw Sousuke leaning against the door frame, watching him. The way that his eyes burned into Makoto made him feel that Sousuke knew of all the selfish and sad thoughts running through Makoto’s mind. Sousuke did not look angry or upset though. His eyes did not look cruel. No. The way he was looking at Makoto was filled with pity.

Makoto thought that hurt even more.

A part of Makoto wished that Sousuke would look at him with disappointment, so he could feel punished for his thoughts. He hated being pitied. It made him feel weaker than what he was.

Rin’s words broke the silence. “I think we’ve got some ice-cream in the freezer. I say we end the night with that, whadd’ya say?”

Still smiling, Haru nodded his head. Everyone slowly stood up and started to make their way down the stairs. Nagisa affectionately gripped onto Haru’s arm. The last one left in the room was Makoto.

Sousuke slowly walked in and squeezed Makoto’s arm.

“Makoto,” He whispered.

Makoto looked up at Sousuke’s eyes. His chest felt tight. “Yes?”

“I . . . I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

Sousuke looked away. Makoto could see his jaw clench tightly. “I’m sorry the world keeps fucking shitting all over you. This was supposed to be a nice evening, and now look how it’s turned out.”

Makoto tentatively brought his hand up to Sousuke’s fingers and tugged on them. He felt Sousuke flinch, but his hand slowly curled around Makoto’s. Sousuke looked down at Makoto.

“I don’t think this evening turned out all that bad,” Makoto mumbled. “Rei, Nagisa and Haru are fine . . . Haru even called me strong. He said he wanted to be like me. I never thought I’d hear him say something like that. It really touched me. I don’t want to ruin that image he seems to have created of me. I can’t. So I’m going to forget about what just happened, I-I’m not going to dwell on it and I’m going to be strong. For Haru. For all of them. They don’t need me trudging up old stuff and causing drama. None of them need that right now,” Makoto gulped.

“Makoto, you have a right to be pissed right now.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, you should be. Or at least let me be pissed for you,” Sousuke softly growled. “I thought they were all starting to make up for all the shit they pulled.”

“They are.”

“Are they?” Sousuke asked. “Cause that little scene didn’t convince me.”

Makoto grip got slightly stronger. “That wasn’t about me. They were just trying to help Haru. Like me. Haru was upset and they were there for him.”

“And where were they when you were feeling sad?” Sousuke spat.

“I know!” Makoto said, loudly. “I _know_ . . . I do. But things are getting better. I felt happy around them for a little bit. I was so glad they invited me. I truly was. And Haru said so many kind things. I felt so loved and so needed. I’ve missed it. I’m not just going to throw all of that away. I can’t. I’m starting to get my friends back, my life back; I’m not going to start breaking all of it down. I’m not. I have to be strong for them.”

Sousuke placed his large, warm hand on Makoto’s hair and softly ran his fingers through it. It felt slightly oily, but Sousuke paid no mind to it. “You don't have to be strong,” he whispered. “You don't have to pick yourself up. The world is constantly telling us that we have to be resilient and we have to face the world head on, but I'm telling you, you don't have to do that. The only reason they tell you that is because they can't handle seeing pain. They can't handle being around someone who has fallen. So they will tell and scream at you to get, to just _get up_. They get uncomfortable looking at you being weak, so they tell you you’re wrong for being so. But you don't have to be strong around me. You don't have to get up. It's okay. It's okay to be weak. I'll still be standing here. I'll stand here as long as I have to, until the day you choose to stand up all on your own. Because on that day, you truly will be strong. It takes a lot of strength to do something solely for yourself and not to benefit anyone else. So I will wait for that day, and I will be ready to take your hand again.”

Makoto felt his eyes prickle. “They’re my friends . . . I – I love them. I can’t just leave them again. I don’t want to. Not again.”

Sousuke bit his tongue, unsure if he should speak or not. But he felt it was a reality Makoto had to face. “I think you’re just scared of being alone, and that’s why you keep on forgiving them.”

Makoto’s eyes grew wide. His grip became loose and shaky. “So? Is it a crime to fear not having friends?”

“That’s not what I meant, Makoto. I’m just saying you think if you speak up, they’ll abandon you. If you think that way, how can you even feel companionship around them? Wouldn’t that just make you feel lonelier? Or are you just scared that if you speak up you’ll be solidifying your loneliness and giving it volume?”

“M-Maybe . . . I don’t know, Sousuke. I just know that I love them and that I want to be around them. I don’t want to leave them.”

“Even if they treat you like they have been?”

“They haven’t been mistreating me. This is just how people respond to me in general. I sink into the background. My energy doesn’t give them validation, so they don’t seek to rectify my pain. I know that’s all it is.”

Sousuke deeply sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think you give them or yourself enough credit. You deserve more than what they have and are giving you, and I feel as though if you just spoke to them they might stop,” he said. “I really don’t hate any of them. I like them. I think they are all nice and kind people, but I can’t stand the way they treat you. I think they’d stop if you just spoke to them.”

“I can’t. Especially not now. This night doesn’t need any more drama. I’m not good at relaying my emotions like that. Besides, the whole reason I didn’t properly see them for years was because I told them what was happening.”

“Makoto, I think that’s a big simplification of the problem. And you know it.”

Makoto moved a little closer to Sousuke. “I really don’t need the situation to change. I think it’s normal for me to feel sad and out of the loop for a while. I’ve missed a lot. I just need to give it time, especially before I start telling them I’m upset. I truly do think time will help, Sousuke. I’m working r-really hard. I’m trying. I think if I keep trying I’ll get there,” Makoto said. He could feel his tears building up again, but he was determined to keep them at bay.

Sousuke’s stomach lurched at the sound of Makoto’s cracking voice. He pulled Makoto into a warm hug. “I know you’re trying really hard. I see it every day; you’re trying so fucking hard. I’m not saying you’re not. It just hurts me that they can’t seem to see that.”

“They don’t need to. I just need to know that I’m trying.”

Sousuke softly laughed. “When did you get so tough, hmm?”

“I don’t know,” Makoto smiled. “Thank you though, Sousuke. Really.” Makoto pushed his face into Sousuke’s shirt. It smelt robust and like coffee.

Makoto was not sure why, but it sent butterflies to his stomach. He felt slightly tingly.

“Do you think we should head back down to everyone, or should we play hooky and just head back to our place?”

_Our place_

_Our place_

_Our place_

“Can men our age even play hooky?”

“Pfft, yeah sure we can. Age is but a number, man,” Sousuke said in a playful tone, before it turned low and serious. “Do you want to? Because we can leave right now if you want to. No questions asked.”

Makoto thought about it. “No. I don’t want to leave. We all agreed to stay the night; I think it’ll be nice. Every moment I spend with them is a step in the right direction, I can feel it.”

“You’re one tenacious guy when you want to be, aren’t you?” Sousuke grinned.

Makoto pulled himself out of Sousuke’s hold and looked up at him. “I learn from the best,” he smiled.

Sousuke softly blushed. He could not think of anything to say, so he just said nothing, while smiling down at Makoto.

Makoto started to walk out of the room and down the stairs. Sousuke followed closely behind him. The lights to the lounge room had been turned off, but the lights to the kitchen and dining room where on. The idle laughter of their friends encapsulated them.

Everyone looked so relaxed. They looked like a perfectly constructed puzzle that was intricately assembled. Makoto knew he was not a part of that puzzle. He knew he had not been for years, a small part of him questioned if he ever was, but it was his little dream to one day be a small piece of that puzzle, instead of just an onlooker. He wanted to feel that inclusion and that love he knew would come along with it. Makoto wondered if he could find a grip on his heart if he may one day be invited into it. He wondered if he would be allowed to find a home in his friends. He hoped he could one day earn that privilege. Until that day, he felt that for the most part, he was happy to simply look on and be as strong as he could for them. It was not necessarily healthy, or proper, but it was what Makoto wanted. He needed little things to aim for to stay afloat in life, and the hope of full acceptance of his friends was one of those little things.

Makoto also felt as though he was able to wait because of the tall man that had entered his life. Sousuke made him feel included and wanted and needed. He was forever grateful for that. Sousuke’s presence gave him the strength to not be a part of that puzzle and to wait for the day he could be a part of it.

“There they are!” Rin called out. “You two better be quick, there ain’t much ice-cream left.”

“That’s because you’re all little shits that don’t know how to share,” Sousuke laughed as he walked over to Rin and snatched the spoon out of his hand, taking a bite out of the chocolate ice-cream on it.

“Fuck you! I can’t eat anymore now. It’s all contaminated,” Rin chuckled.

“What a shame, I guess I’ll have to have all of yours now,” Sousuke replied as he took Rin’s bowl, with a face splitting grin and sat down. “Great choice, Rin. It’s _so_ creamy and smooth.”

“I know it is, you greedy fucker,” Rin smiled.

“Would you like some, Makoto?” Rei asked.

“Oh, no thank you,” Makoto said. He sat down in the spare seat next to Haru.

What Makoto had was not perfect, but he hoped with all he had that he would be able to keep all of his friends in the future. He wanted to feel that warmth they emitted inside of his heart, and not just on his skin.

He hoped he could find his way back to them one day.

Looking at all of them, all grown and different and changing, Makoto smiled.

_***_

_Anger, pure uncontrollable anger, was an emotion Makoto only experienced in scatterings throughout his life. While he had felt it towards others, if he felt it, it was typically towards himself._

_It was a night he would never let himself forget, because even after it all, a small part of him believed what he said to be the truth, and he knew it was a truth he would never utter again. So he held onto that night. He held onto it as if it were a precious memory of happiness. Though it was anything but._

_It was the night before he first tried to kill himself._

_The house had been quiet, as it was late into the night. Not a single word could be heard from inside or outside of the house. It was one of those rare moments were Makoto did not care about the opinions of others. He only cared to listen to the harsh tone of his own broken and pleading voice._

_His naked frame stood in front of his long mirror in his poorly lit room. His eyes kept moving up and down each section of it, scrutinizing it until he found nothing left to pick apart, or until he found new things to hate. It never took him long to find those new things. It felt as though there were a never ending pack of them constantly being dumped over him and blinding his eyes to any other reality then the one everyone else around him saw. Further isolating him from the world he was expected to call home._

_Makoto glared at his reflection._

_He ran his hands over his soft arms and aggressively pulled at them until they were red and marked with the pathway of scratches from his fingernails. He his entire body felt as if tiny bugs were crawling over his body and he had no other choice other than to rip them all out of himself. He stared at the soft fuzz of pubic hair covering his groin. He saw his hairy legs and felt the dark trail of hair that spread down below his bellybutton – his bellybutton that was stretched across his round stomach like a large and permanent frown._

_Reality felt non-existent in that moment. It felt as if he were floating through a dream that had bled into a nightmare. He felt as if his soul was sitting across the room, on his bed, simply watching the ordeal of self-hatred he had found himself in. He felt disconnected with himself and his world._

_Odd questions, the type of questions one does not typically ask themselves, unless emotionally pushed, aspects of the world that are taken for granted and gifted as a sure given, flooded his mind and body:_

Who am I?

How did I get here?

How do I think and feel?

How do I see the world and be a part of it?

Do I truly matter?

**Of course I don’t.**

 

_Makoto felt life was cruel. He did not know what it wanted out of him. He did not think he could keep it up much longer. He was tired of playing pretend. What was the point anyway? He was only placed on Earth for a miniscule amount of time. Why was he cursed with having to live in a body and world that did not want him?_

_Life was just such an odd thing to Makoto. You were given a life, and you never really have a choice in that matter. And you are expected to be_ good _at it. And if you no longer want it, if you no longer want this thing you were forced into, you get treated differently. He thought it would have been common to not want life. But as he got older he discovered it was nowhere near as common as he believed it to be. He did not understand how others could not see the malicious nature of life. You have no say over who you are, what you are, where you are, or how the world sees you. Yet, you are still expected to want life. To crave it. Makoto wished he could have been one of those people who felt blessed that they were given a life, not cursed._

_He tried to choke back the tears that filled his eyes and ran down his flustered face. He could not bear to look at himself; yet a part of him craved the torment it brought to his mind. He felt like he deserved to hate the shell he was given. He deserved to stand in front of his mirror in a poorly lit room, while his family slept, hating every single inch of who he was._

_Makoto felt very tired in that moment. He had been playing the game of hate for so long. He did not know how long he could keep it up for. He did not know how long he wanted to live in hate for._

_He ended up hating himself to the point that he didn't know who he was hating anymore. He didn't know who he was anymore. Once that happened he questioned who he was even trying so hard for, so he just stopped trying. He stopped putting in effort for a person that, in his heart and mind, was dead._

_Stuck to the side of the mirror was a photo of Rei, Nagisa, Rin, Haru and himself. With his trembling hands, Makoto pulled it off the mirror and looked down at it. Normally, seeing the smiling faces of his friends made him feel warm and content, but in that moment it made him feel nothing other than empty. And angry._

_He did not know why it made it him feel so angry – or more accurately, he did not want to admit to himself why it made him feel so angry._

_His body seethed with emotions he had buried and was not accustomed to. Large sobs slipped out of his mouth and rumbled through this throat. He shoved his hands up to his face in an attempt to quieten himself, crumpling the photograph in the process._

_His eyes caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror – and that just set him off even more. He utterly despised how he looked. How did his body become this way? When did it start? Why did he allow himself to become that way? He bent his head forward and his back shook with the waves of his grief._

_He despised who had become; who he always been:_

_Weak_

_Broken_

_Disgusting_

_Lost_

_Different_

_Lazy_

_Apathetic_

_Dreamless_

_Purposeless_

_Unwanted_

_Unneeded_

_Ugly_

_Unintelligent_

_Boring_

_Makoto Tachibana_

_His inconsistent breathing made him feel lightheaded, so Makoto slowly dropped down onto the ground. He put his head against his knees. They became sticky with tears. In a sudden need to physically release his internal inflictions, he screwed the photograph into a tight ball and threw it against the mirror._

_He stared at his reflection, his hideous reflection, and could do nothing but scowl at it. Why should he be forced to accept himself when it was obvious no one else could? If no one else could accept him, there was clearly something wrong with him – that was what he believed. More so in that moment than any other._

_He could feel the way his stomach bunched as he shifted. He hated it._

_He hated feeling uncomfortable in his skin. It was like being trapped in an itchy jumper that he could never seem to remove, no matter how hard he tugged and pulled._

_“Most people will act sympathetic until they realise how many limitations you have and that you physically cannot be the person they need you to be. Then they will start to become uncomfortable and agitated,” he whispered to himself, keeping steady and deadly eye contact with his reflection. “You'll start to see they n-never really cared, they never listened to you; they just didn't w-want to be labelled as insensitive. Once they see how your problems actually affect you and they actually have to d-deal with it, they won't be able to handle it and they won't want to admit any failure on their part, so they'll s-start to blame you. ‘You’re not trying hard enough’, ‘you need to l-learn to change to suite the real world’, ‘you'll never get anywhere like that. It just won't cut it’; ‘you've just got poor time management’. They'll act all smug and entitled. They'll w-whinge and complain about how hard you make their life and they'll flaunt all the ‘help’ they’re giving you, as if it were some g-golden privilege, but when push comes to shove they'll do fuck all for you, shove all the blame onto you, and use your shortcomings and limitations as fuel for the poorly r-running self-esteem engine,” Makoto spat. He could feel his self-disdain growing, yet he could not stop the words from flowing out. “They'll exploit you and shit all over you – and still, the w-world will tell them they are in the right you are in the wrong. That's the type of world we live in. That's our world, and you're one of the l-lucky few to be the gunk at the bottom of the barrel for it all. They'll end up exploiting you the most, and y-you'll let them too. You'll let them because it's the only w-way you'll feel somewhat useful. You know it's the only thing your s-slightly good at. So they will step on your face and spit in your eyes, and you'll just s-sit there fucking begging them to continue. You make me sick.”_

_Hot, fresh tears ran down his face. Makoto did not even care to wipe them away. It was in that moment he decided to go through with the plans that had plagued his mind since he was fourteen. He would finally put himself first. He would finally give himself the release he had been craving, and he thought he deserved._

_He would finally be free._

***

The house was quiet.

Haru and Rin were asleep in their room. Rei and Nagisa were sleeping downstairs in the lounge room. All Makoto could hear was the soft creaking of the house and tapping and swaying of the trees as the night air pushed and tumbled through their town.

Despite all that had happened and all that made his heart tight that night, Makoto felt somewhat okay. His room was illuminated by the glow of the moon and the night sky bleeding into the room through the crack of the window.

The door to his room opened up and Makoto saw Sousuke walk in.

“What’re you still doing up?” Sousuke smiled.

“I just . . . I just thought I’d wait for you,” Makoto replied.

Sousuke smiled and flicked the light on. “That was very nice of you then, thank you.”

Sousuke’s skin looked slightly red from the hot bath. His white cotton shirt sat loosely around his thin frame and his shorts showed of his slender legs. Makoto always knew that Sousuke was much smaller and skinnier then he was in high school. Makoto knew he was not as strong and muscular, yet he never knew he was _that_ much more slender. Looking at Sousuke, he became hyper aware of how much larger he was. He felt the way his soft legs rubbed together and the way his round stomach spilled forward. His skin felt itchy and irritable. Makoto tried with all his might to push the thoughts away.

“You okay?” Sousuke asked as he started to use one arm, his good arm, to pull out his bun.

“What? Oh, yeah I’m fine. Sorry, I just zoned out for a bit,” Makoto replied. “A-Are you okay? You seem to be having a bit of a hard time there.”

“Yeah, it’s just harder to do with one arm. You should see how long it takes me to brush and put up with just one arm. I haven’t gotten too good at it yet. I couldn’t really use my bad arm that well to do it before, but now I really, _really_ can’t do it. I can’t even push through the pain for a little bit to do my hair. It’s just gotten worse; I suppose I shouldn’t have pushed myself too much. I’ll probably have to cut my hair so I can maintain it.” Eventually his hair fell out of his bun and pooled around his face.

Makoto got out of his futon and walked over to Sousuke. “Do you want to cut it though?”

Sousuke shook his head. “Nah, not really. But I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“Sure you do,” Makoto said. “Where is your hair brush?”

Sousuke hesitated, unsure of where Makoto was taking their conversation. “Down there in my bag,” Sousuke pointed.

Makoto walked over to the small bag on the ground. He opened it and searched for the hairbrush. Once he found he moved back to his futon and sat down.

“Sit down,” Makoto said, patting the spot in front of him.

Cautiously Sousuke went and sat down in front of Makoto.

“I may not be as good as you,” Makoto said. “But I do know how to do simple things. I used to do my sister’s hair a little bit when she was younger.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Sousuke mumbled awkwardly.

“I want to. But if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

Sousuke shook his head. “No, that’s okay.”

Makoto smiled. Slowly, he started to drag the brush through Sousuke’s soft hair. His fingers moved through it too. They would occasionally move over his warm ears, and Makoto would feel Sousuke slightly shiver. His body would react the same way when Makoto’s fingers dusted over the nape of his neck.

Makoto could not help but smile as the brush moved through the waves of Sousuke’s dark brown hair.

“That feels really nice,” Sousuke mused.

“I’m glad,” Makoto said. “It’s actually pretty relaxing for me too. You have really nice and soft hair.”

Sousuke laughed. “Thanks. I try.”

“I can do your hair for you every day if you want . . . I really don’t mind.”

“Really?”

“Ye-Yeah. I mean, you’re my friend and you’re important to me. I’d hate for you to cut something you love when there is something I can do to help you.”

Sousuke felt his face warm with a bright blush.

Silence bloomed between them as Makoto continued to brush through Sousuke’s hair. Neither of them felt uncomfortable in that silence. It felt like the warm hand of a mother, cradling them to safer times. They felt detached from the house, as if they were floating in their own personal universe of peace. Makoto felt at ease. He felt calm.

“Will you have to leave early tomorrow?” Sousuke asked his voice soft and mellow.

“For my appointment?”

“Yeah.”

“No, it’s not until one.”

“Oh, that’s good then,” Sousuke said. “Are you enjoying them? Like, are they helping do you think?”

Makoto thought about it. “I think they are. I don’t know if I would say I’ve gotten better, but I don’t think I’ve gotten any worse, so that’s something.”

Sousuke hummed. “I’d definitely say that’s good. And I mean, all things considered you haven’t been there for _that_ long. These things take time.”

“Nao, my therapist, said the same thing. She’s actually brought up possibly doing family therapy sessions and taking medication.”

Sousuke slowly turned around and took the brush out of his hands. Sousuke looked at Makoto, but he was avoiding eye contact with Sousuke.

“I didn’t know that,” Sousuke whispered. “When did she bring that up?”

“Um, a few weeks ago, I think,” Makoto mumbled. “I didn’t really know if it was something I should’ve brought up with you or not.”

“I mean, whatever you choose doesn’t really affect me. You need to do what will help you the most. I’ll support whatever you decide you need to do. Do you think you’ll do it?”

Makoto lifted his head and looked up at Sousuke. “I don’t think family therapy sessions would help. I still haven’t spoken to my dad since moving out. I don’t – I don’t think he really wants to hear from me. He’s still upset over the whole thing, even though it’s been a while. He just doesn’t really understand any of. I think he feels as though who I am is a reflection on him and his abilities, so he feels ashamed of himself and me. My mum’s gotten a lot better though. She still has her moments, but I can see she is trying.”

Sousuke rubbed his hand up and down Makoto’s arm. “That’s a bit of a shitty situation. I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget not all families are like mine. I’m lucky that my mum and stepdad were never fazed by my mental illnesses and my sexuality.”

“They weren’t?” Makoto asked.

Sousuke shook his head. “They were super understanding. When I was, um, thirteen I think, when I came out to them as bisexual. I was so different back then though. My attitude was pretty much ‘I’m bisexual, fucking deal with it. Anyone who says anything will get the shit kicked out of them’,” he laughed. “When I got older I started to struggle with it and actually become aware of the stigma and hardships that come along with being that way. But they were always there for me, they tried to understand it and help me. I think there might have been a few times were they were a bit iffy on the whole thing, but nothing that bad. But when I started going on medication for anxiety and taking antidepressants they were super supportive and never questioned it.”

“You went on medication?”

“Yeah, I’m still on it. At least, I am for my anxiety.”

“I – I never knew. I’m sorry. I knew you had anxiety, but I didn’t know you were on medication for it. And I never knew you went on antidepressants.”

“I’ve been on medication for my anxiety since I was around fifteen, I think. So I’ve had it for a while. My anxiety is not nearly as bad as it used to be, and I forget to have my medication sometimes,” he laughed. “I wasn’t on antidepressants for an overly long time. When I damaged my shoulder in high school I got really bad, so I ended up going on them. I was only on them for about three years though, and then I didn’t need them anymore.”

“Did they help?”

“I had to try out a few different kinds before I found some that were suitable for me, but once I found them, yeah, I think they worked well.”

“I don’t know if I should go on them or not.”

Sousuke gripped Makoto’s hand. “Why not?”

“I’ve never been good with medication in general. They freak me out. I’m scared of who they’ll make me.”

“They won’t make you anyone else, Makoto,” Sousuke reassured. “They just help make your life a little lighter. They won’t get rid of the problem, but they can ease the pain. You should probably try and talk to Nao about it more. Maybe try and talk to some other people who are on medication for the mental illnesses, just so you can get a broader understanding of what they’re like.”

Makoto nodded his head. “That’s a good idea. I could try and talk to Yoshimoto about it. He’s on them I think.”

Sousuke raised his eyebrow. “Yoshimoto?”

Makoto smiled. “Haven’t I told you about him?”

Sousuke shook his head.

“It seems almost unreal or fictional, when I think about it,” Makoto said. “I met a homeless man one day, and I gave him some food. Ages after that, on a, um, a rough day, I ended up meeting him again. He thanked me and told me I somehow I ended up helping him have the courage to go back home to where his mother and sister lived. I couldn’t really believe it to be honest. I still don’t. But he wanted to help me because of it, so he gave me the contact number to the therapy place he goes to. It’s the one I go to now. I honestly thought I’d never see him again, a part of me thought I’d dreamt the whole thing up, if I’m being honest. But I ran into him, his mother and his sister after one of my appointments. They were all so lovely and kind. They all gave me a hug and invited me over their house some drinks. Since then I’ve actually been speaking with Yoshimoto a fair bit. He’s a lot older than me, but he’s very kind and very funny. I was actually going to go over to his mother’s house tomorrow after my appointment.”

“Shit,” Sousuke breathed. “I see what you mean. That does seem like something you’d find in a story or something. It’s pretty fucking cool though.”

“I know right?” Makoto smiled. “I think it’s so amazing. Nao says it’s been really good for me to, you know, have an older male accept parts of me that I feel like my dad couldn’t accept about me. She says I might be projecting a little bit, but I’m okay with that. I think everyone projects a little bit in life.”

“Definitely,” Sousuke said. “Does that mean you’ve come out to him?”

Makoto shook his head. “I don’t think I could do that. Not yet at least. I just have all of this undealt with hatred towards my sexuality and romantic orientation. I know it’s not going away, but I wish it would. And I don’t even know why. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the way I am. Yet I still don’t want to be it. I think a part of me is just hoping if I don’t think about my sexuality and romantic orientation, it might go away.”

Sousuke’s heart sank. He did not know that. He knew that Makoto struggled with his identity, but he did not know it weighed him down so much. Sousuke had not been aware of how much self-hatred Makoto was truly filled with.

“Do you . . . Do you know why you feel that way?” Sousuke whispered.

Makoto shook his head. “Not really. I think, maybe a part of me just doesn’t view it as real love, and that just makes me sad. I feel like the feelings I hold can’t possibly be taken seriously if I don’t feel sexual attraction to people. I just feel like my brain isn’t wired correctly and I’ll just make people angry if I tell them. I’ve honestly tried so hard to just want sex, or at least, become indifferent towards it. It never lasts long though. Every time I think ‘oh yeah, I’d be willing to do a few sexual things for my partner’ I end up freaking out about it and before I know it I’m right back at square one,” Makoto explained. “And being attracted to boys, and only boys, I don’t know . . . I just never saw it for myself when I was younger. It honestly shocked me when I realised it. And over the years I’ve also started to feel closed minded about it. I think ‘why can’t you like girls too? Why do you only have to like boys? What if you miss out.’ I don’t really know. I just know it made me really sad. Not to mention how my dad reacted to it. He hates it, he really does. I-It ruined our relationship. That and my mental illnesses. I just g-get so frustrated over it all,” Makoto sobbed. “I feel like I’d still have lots of friends and I’d still have my family the way I used to if I wasn’t – if I wasn’t _me_ ,” he choked.

Sousuke pulled Makoto into a warm hug. He rested his chin on the top of Makoto’s head. “I’m sorry this world has been so shitty to you. I honest to god don’t know how you’ve stayed so fucking kind, I really don’t. That’s a huge achievement, Makoto.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m kind. I’m all kinds of messed up and selfish. I only know how to take. The only reason I can give at all is because I have a hero complex,” Makoto muffled into Sousuke’s chest. He closed his eyes.

“You? A hero complex?” Sousuke asked.

“Mmm.”

“I think a lot of people have a small hero complex,” Sousuke said. “They want to listen to your problems simply so they can swoop down and say exactly what you need to hear so you can feel better and good about themselves. It helps them feel accomplished. The problem is, a lot of issues can't be fixed by words. A lot of those people will act as if they are telling you something you haven't already told yourself. When they start to see that their words are not affecting you they can get agitated and they will most likely just end up leaving the conversation. They don't want to admit that sometimes there is no way to fix a situation. Sometimes a situation is just horrible and it can't be fixed. People don't like to admit that though, they don't like to admit others can suffer just as much as themselves, if not more. It makes them feel bad and uncomfortable about their own lives. You don’t have to worry about that though, Makoto. I know you might not believe me, but I can promise you, you don’t have a hero complex. It’s not a sin to feel good about helping someone. You’re a kind and giving person. You have a heart of gold, and when push comes to shove you’ll help someone simply because it’s the right thing to do.”

Makoto pushed further into Sousuke’s embrace. “I think you’re the kind one here, Sousuke. I don’t think you could be selfish if you tried.”

Sousuke laughed. “Not true. I can be a selfish little shit when I want to be.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Well, I don’t believe it about you either,” Sousuke said.

“The only reason I help is because I can’t see myself doing anything else,” Makoto said. “I just sort of fell into this pit. I didn’t care to look after myself anymore. But it reached a point that I started to hate the body I had made for myself. I hated how round and soft I became. It felt like I had really reduced myself to nothing. I'm thankful my relationship with food never got as bad as it could have, but I wouldn't say I have a positive relationship with food. I hated where I was going, I hated who I was, I hated who I was becoming. I couldn’t handle all of the problems in my head. I couldn’t find my place in the world, because the world irritated me. The people I told myself I loved hurt me. I hurt myself. I felt so disconnected from everything, so I just pushed myself into trying to be there for others. I don’t think that’s what a truly kind person does.”

“Sure it is,” Sousuke whispered. His breath felt warm against Makoto’s head. “You’ve never expected anything in return. Sometimes kind people have demons of their own, sometimes they are kind to try and remove and help relieve the pain of those demons, but that doesn’t mean those people aren’t kind. That doesn’t mean you aren’t a kind person. You’re honestly the most genuine and kind person I’ve ever met, Makoto. You honestly are.”

“You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met,” Makoto breathed. “You make me feel found.”

“Found?”

Makoto nodded his head. “I think a lot of us are waiting for the day that someone comes along and goes ‘ah! I found you! I finally found you!’ – You make me feel like someone has found the little boy of myself that I locked away in my heart. Every day I’m around you, I feel him becoming a little more free.”

_I FOUND YOU, MAKOTO_.

_I FOUND YOU._

_YOU FOUND ME._

Sousuke smiled, and he felt a few tears of happiness prickle his eyes. He had never felt more needed and appreciated in his life.

 

“Do you think we should head off to sleep?” Sousuke asked softly. He felt as if his heart was melting, and he did not know how much this should could take if the two of them stayed up talking any longer.

Makoto chuckled. “That sounds like a good idea.” He detached himself from Sousuke and stood up to turn off the light. The room went dark, but the glow from outside allowed Makoto to see small blurs of Sousuke and the room.

Both Sousuke and Makoto crawled into their futons. Makoto laid on his side, facing Sousuke.

“You know,” Makoto whispered. “When I was sixteen I always imagined myself at twenty-one or something saying 'I never thought my life would be like this. I never imagined my life would be like this. I never thought I would be happy.' I used to rehearse that stuff in my head a lot when I was younger. I was convinced I was going to say it. I never did though. I never got to see a bunch of my close friends and be like, 'hey. I'm glad my life is like this. I almost gave up. I almost thought I would never live like this. I'm so glad I can now. I'm glad I didn't give up because I'm happy now.' It just never happened. I just kept pushing through the sadness until I preferred to not even try anymore. Now I'm just back at square one; I'm just walking through the pain. I hope one day I can say it though. I hope one day I can say 'I never thought I would get here, but I'm glad I didn't give up on myself. I'm glad I can finally be happy." I really hope I can say it one day. You make me feel like I might one be able to say that. I honestly don’t think I can thank you enough for that, Sousuke. I hope I can repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

Sousuke felt his heart tighten. He could not believe Makoto was not aware of all he had already done for Sousuke. Sousuke could not find the words to express how he felt in that situation. His mind was running blank and full of nothing but a warmth as sticky as honey and as sweet as jam. His insides bubbled with an unfamiliar feeling of acceptance and need. It was a foreign and versatile feeling, but he could feel his soul slowly becoming addicted to it. He knew it was something he would come to crave daily if he was not careful.

Sousuke knew he could not save Makoto from the turmoil of his heart, just as Makoto could not save Sousuke from his own turmoil. However, Sousuke did hope to become a soft place in which Makoto could fall, just as Makoto had become for him.

Sousuke wondered how different their lives might have been if they had become closer when they were younger. A part of him wished they had gotten closer when they were younger. However, Sousuke realized he appreciated Makoto all the more simply because they had gotten closer when they were older. He knew he was a completely different person when he was younger, and if they had become extremely close then, they may not have ended up where they were. Sousuke felt as if they re-met when they did because their hearts were in desperate need of each other. He was never a man to believe in such trivial things like fate and destiny, but he felt if he ever had a time in his life where he would say something unexplainable had intervened, it would have been the day he met Makoto, and the day they were reunited as adults.

Sousuke placed his hand on top of Makoto’s.

“You’re fingers are cold,” Sousuke said quietly.

Makoto did not know how to respond. However, he could not explain why, but in that moment he felt a great desire and pull to lean over to Sousuke and kiss him. Makoto felt his face blush deeply. He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but the more he tried, the bigger it got. His mind was filled with the fantasies of Sousuke holding his shoulders and pressing his dry lips over Makoto’s softy arms. He imagined what it would feel like to be held down and loved by a man as strong and kind as Sousuke. Makoto imagined the rough sensation of Sousuke’s coarse stubble kissing his chin.

He imagined what the warmth of the two of them would feel like.

Makoto tried not to focus on it.

He had found a good place with Sousuke, and he did not want to ruin it. He wanted to build an empire of their hearts together, and he would wait. He would wait for when his heart was ready. Despite how he felt, Makoto knew his heart could not bear the weight of another beating next to it. Not yet. Makoto knew he had to find his place before he dwelled over the new emotions that had started to grow in his soul.

“G-Goodnight, Sousuke.”

“Goodnight, Makoto. I hope you sleep well,” Sousuke said, as he slowly let go of Makoto’s hand.

The two of them closed their eyes and waited for the night and Tomorrow to capture them.

In the silence of the night, Makoto thought to himself, maybe there was one universe where everything worked out. One universe where he was happy and content and felt like he deserved to be on the Earth. He hoped there was one. He hoped one day his own path would cross ways with it. Until that day though, he would continue to fall and cry and laugh and smile and just wait for a better day. A better Tomorrow. Because even if he did not believe it, he was starting to think the world was not all bad. Sometimes it genuinely gave him small things to smile about, even if none of those things were about himself.

Haru, Rin, Rei, Nagisa, Sousuke and Makoto all lay in the same world of their souls. Their hearts and minds all captured under the same roof, once again. Sleep enveloped the six of them. Their futures were uncertain and their relations undetermined. Even though things had changed, and everything was different, for a small minute, for a small second, everything felt like what it once had been. It felt like they were teenagers staying up too late. It felt like they owned the world and the future was at their mercy. It felt like Tomorrow had yet to wrap her conniving hands around any of their throats. Nothing was the same, and none of them could ever go back, but the night felt peaceful and gave them all a feeling of youth and hope that they had been craving. They all, in their own ways, had been craving that feel of relief for too long. But finally, for a moment in time, that wish was granted to them, and they got to bask in the moonlight of boyhood one again. It felt both like a bittersweet passing of goodbyes, and the turning of pages to a new chapter. They did not have to think of the what-ifs or the how’s or the whys. In that moment they were young boys. In that moment they were unconquerable.

***

_“That's it! We're lost,” Nagisa whined, tugging on Rei's arm._

_“We're not lost,” Rei replied._

_“We are! We're completely lost and we'll never find the others. Ever.”_

_“Nagisa. We're not lost.”_

_“I bet you don't even know where we are.”_

_“Yes, I do.”_

_“Where?”_

_“Japan.” Rei said, with a serious face._

_“Stop. Don't do that. Sarcasm doesn't you. At all. You’re not even doing it right,” Nagisa complained, as he grabbed a hold of Rei’s arm and rested his head upon it as they continued walking._

_The fresh spring air blew through their hair and brushed over their skins. The smell of cooking food and the sound laughter danced through the trees and added to the happy atmosphere. Makoto could not help but giggle at the antics of Rei and Nagisa._

_The park was filled with people, of all ages. There were young kids running around with balls and blowing bubbles. A few teenagers with their groups of friends or on dates walked around the pathways. Families and friends sat on picnic blankets under the cherry blossom tress eating food and drinking beer and tea. The sun shone high in the sky and only the dots of a few clouds could be seen._

_“There they are!” Nagisa yelled out. He ran forward to where Haru and Rin were sitting on a blanket. Makoto looked over and saw a few of Rin’s friends from his school were also there. He took a deep breath to calm himself before walking over to them._

_“Hey guys!” Rin called out, waving. “We were starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”_

_“There are so many people here, we had trouble finding you,” Rei explained._

_“Yeah, it seems to get busier and busier each year, doesn’t it?” Rin replied. “There’s heaps of food left though.”_

_Makoto made his way over to where Haru was. They smiled at each other and hugged._

_“It’s so crowded,” Haru laughed. “I hope it doesn’t get any worse.”_

_“So do I. Hopefully it’ll calm down later. Did you and Rin get here okay? I hope Rei, Nagisa and I didn’t keep you all waiting too long.”_

_“We’ve only been here for about an hour or so I’d say. We were lucky; there weren’t too many people here when we got here.”_

_Makoto was about to reply when Rin’s loud voice came crashing through the air._

_“Haru!” Rin called out. “Can you come over here? I need your help with something.”_

_“Sorry,” Haru said to Makoto. “I’ll try to be quick.”_

_Makoto laughed. “No, that’s okay. Take your time,” he smiled._

_Haru smiled back before running over to Rin._

_Makoto tried to not look awkward standing alone. He looked around at the trees, but ended up just staring at the ground and fiddling with his fingers._

_A pair of black shoes entered his vision._

_“Hey,” a deep and firm voice said._

_Makoto lifted his head and saw a large and powerful looking young man standing in front of him. His bare arms were exposed from the singlet he was wearing, and crossed over his chest. His eyes held an intimidating yet also kind grip on Makoto. Despite being a similar height and build to the man, his personality and oozing confidence made Makoto feel small. His face was angular and sharp; it reminded Makoto of the rugged landscape of a mountain. He seemed to the type of the young man that happily took up space, but also shared it with others. Makoto felt as if he were hooked on a line of chances, looking at that man’s kindly curious expression._

_“H-Hello,” Makoto replied._

_“I’m Sousuke,” he said, holding his hand out for a shake._

_Makoto softly shook his hand. “I’m Haru’s friend.”_

_“‘Haru’s friend’, shit, that’s a weird name, isn’t it?” A grin split across his face._

_Makoto blushed. “M-My name’s Makoto,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “M-Makoto Tachibana.”_

_“Oh,” Sousuke cooed. “So he does have his own identity after all. I was worried there for a minute,” he winked. “It’s nice to meet you, Makoto Tachibana.”_

_A small smile spread across Makoto’s face. “It’s nice to meet you too, Sousuke.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter!! I was actually really excited to write this one because there were some scenes I had been waiting to write since I started this story! Ahahaha.  
> I think Makoto is trying really hard, so that makes me happy.
> 
> Also, I hope I sort of got across how hard Haru is trying as well. He's absolutely done some pooy things, but I honestly think he is trying. I think Haru is the type of person who doesn't know what he is doing to people until after he has done it. But I think he is trying to be a better person and trying to make up for what he did. 
> 
> If this chapter felt a bit jumpy or disjointed, don't worry! :D It was supposed to feel a bit all over the place ( even in terms of dialogue and actions) because I was trying to capture Makoto's disconnect and transition. His heart and mind is a little out of it and all over the place, because he is still tad lost, so this chapter is too! :) 
> 
> Sousuke is also so fun. Ahahaha, such a fun fun character to write. :D
> 
> I hope you all have an absolutely beautiful day!!! And thank you again for all of your support, and for being so patient! :) <3 <3 <3


	16. A Dance With Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years later.  
> And so this little tale comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUPRISE!!! Last chapter!!  
> Don't worry, this isn't because I got bored with the story, or anything of the sort. I had always planned to end it this way, I just thought it would be better if the ending came when you were least expecting it - because isn't that how all endings come about? 
> 
> This has been an amazing experience and I honestly cannot thank you all enough. All of kudos, comments and support has meant so much to me. And especially just reading it at all has meant the world to me. Please make sure to read the trigger warning list below (and tell me if I have missed anything, as always :) ) and read the end notes, if you want and explanation for certain things and why I chose to write certain things the way I did. Again, thank you all so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy the finale chapter!! (SPOILERS WILL BE IN THE TRIGGER WARNING LIST) 
> 
> MY TUMBLR (Come and say hello if you like!! :D ) : trappedinalamppost
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING:  
> \- Character Death  
> \- Heavy allusion to death by suicide  
> \- Self hatred  
> \- Small allusions to homophobia/acephobia  
> \- fatphobia  
> \- Asexual character placing themselves in sexual situation they don't want to be in  
> \- Mentions of anxiety attack  
> \- Mentions of depression 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL SO SO MUHC FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT!!! Please enjoy. :)
> 
> *DISCLAIMER*: Within this story there will negative and self deprecating thoughts and actions around sexuality and mental illness. These are not opinions that I am promoting, but merely ideas and actions used to express the difficulties people in these situations face, both externally and internally.

_i don’t fit in this box;_

_i’m a hole within myself._

_i see through everyone i meet._

_These tears i hold close,_

_cause me to stumble;_

_i cannot see past my own two feet._

_i don’t understand._

_i don’t connect._

_The tomb of my love_

_is one that is broken._

_Please,_

_do not be so open_

_and lock me to the lamp post_

_in which you two share._

_My broken love_

_is not something i_

_can witness and bear._

_The eyes on my feet_

_long to look to at the stars,_

_and not just the dirt of my life._

_Not just the shattered glass i use to see._

_Why was i born this way?_

_With the ocean as my hair_

_and the battle fields_

_as my heart?_

_i long to know you –_

_but i don’t fit._

_My feet cannot keep up._

_i’m walking this wasteland_

_with only one tattered shoe._

_You gave it to me,_

_didn’t you?_

_My bobby pins sit,_

_high out of reach._

_i need them to see_

_but they too_

_are locked away;_

_right next to you._

_The silhouette of my scars_

_reflect only your smile._

_Even then,_

_i forget where they separate._

_You cannot see my confusion,_

_but i can taste your regret._

_i’m alone_

_in a place of daffodils and snow._

_i’m surrounded_

_by your shadows of the past._

_i can’t be them._

_i want to know them._

_But no matter what_

_you always place me last._

_i don’t fit into this box._

_While others gather_

_to talk together_

_of how they don’t fit in,_

_i watch from afar_

_with my little beggar’s tin._

_i was born in the wrong world_

_the wrong time._

_i was born next your heart,_

_instead of my own._

****

****

****

**_-Three Years later -_ **

It had been a week since the funeral.

The small and inconsistent drops of water falling out of the faucet in the kitchen could be heard like a distant memory throughout the small apartment. The sun cracked through the blinds of the main, and only, room of the apartment. The low buzz of people softly drifted up from down below. Particles of dust were illuminated in the line of the sun’s light. They softly kissed Makoto’s hair as his head lolled to the side. His body was hunched and crumbled in on itself, leaning against the window that overlooked a part of the town. His town.

Makoto’s breathing was low and calm – which was a pleasant change to the shaky and hiccup stuffed breathing he had been locked in half an hour ago. His arms were crossed against his chest. He was glad he did not have any pressing obligations that day. He was not sure if he would have been able to handle them.

However, all things considered, Makoto was surprised he was not worse off.

His cat meandered around the apartment. Its tiny paws padding along the floor. She softly meowed when she heard the front door click and start to open.

Sousuke took off his shoes and moved across to the kitchen space, where he placed down a small pink box of macaroons.

“Hey there, girl,” he whispered as she jumped up onto the kitchen bench. “Has Makoto managed to feed you yet?” he asked. He looked over near the door that led into the main room and saw that her cat bowl had a few pieces of leftover, but fresh, fish in it. He softly opened the sliding door and saw Makoto asleep. A tranquil yet bittersweet smile spread across Sousuke’s face.

They had both fought hard to find themselves where they were. Every time Sousuke saw Makoto’s peaceful and sleeping face he was reminded of that fact. He walked over to Makoto and squatted down in front of him. He lightly moved Makoto’s hair out of his eyes and softly caressed his face.

To Sousuke every moment with Makoto felt extremely precious and valuable.

Two years ago Makoto had tried to kill himself again.

Since then Makoto had never told anyone why. No matter how many times people asked him. He did, however, say that he had not thought it about again after that attempt. At least not enough to go through with it again. Makoto had been honest and admitted to still feeling the desire to, but he never felt it so strongly to the point he started making plans. Sousuke believed that was an improvement, so he took it.

When Sousuke had found Makoto sitting in that hospital bed he had been filled with so much anger. He would have liked to of said it was like in the movies where he was angry at himself for ‘not noticing the signs’ or ‘not being able to save Makoto’, but that was not the case. All of his anger had been directed at Makoto.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he had bellowed.

“How could you be so selfish?” he had screamed.

“Did you not think this would hurt us all?” he had yelled.

“Why didn’t you tell someone something was wrong, you fucking shithead?” he had cried.

Sousuke had cried a lot that day. He had been hit with a reality he had forgotten to remember: good times don’t mean someone has gotten better.

He held Makoto’s hand tightly every time he visited him. Makoto had apologised repeatedly. At first Sousuke did not believe him. However, he did start to. He could see how Makoto’s heart and mind had tied him up like a puppet. He could see the person he loved so dearly drowning in something that no one could save him from. He never left Makoto, he never abandoned him, but he knew that Makoto had abandoned himself. It was a fact Sousuke had to come to terms with.

However, from that tragically dark snippet of their lives, flowers began to grow and bring them partly back into the light.

Makoto had gotten himself to the point where he could work. His job was not something that someone would call a dream, but it was an achievement in his eyes. He had been able to claw himself to the point where he was able to go into the world and do something. Some days his heart would feel so heavy that he felt anchored to his room, and some days he could not even work. But he had a job none the less. It was one that did not cause him too much stress. It was something he could do. It gave him enough money to rent his tiny apartment, and that was all he really wanted. To be able to say he did something for himself. He knew he did not have to prove himself, but he still felt the desire and pulling need to. Makoto worked as a cleaner for a small company that was located exactly twenty minutes away from where he lived.

It was not special.

It was not grand.

It was something he was slightly embarrassed over.

But it was _something_.

That was what mattered to Makoto.

Sousuke sat down next to Makoto. The movement jostled Makoto and he started to stir awake.

“Hey,” Makoto mumbled.

“Hey, you,” Sousuke replied.

Makoto rubbed his eyes and stretched himself.

“How’re you holding up?” Sousuke asked.

Makoto was silent for a moment before replying. “I’m okay, I guess. I’m a lot better than last week. But I think it’s really starting to hit me that I’ll never see him again.”

Sousuke wrapped his arm around Makoto’s shoulders and lightly kissed his head. “It’ll take time. You two were pretty close after all, and he meant a lot to you. You don’t have to be okay anytime soon.”

Makoto pushed into Sousuke’s warmth. “I think I just feel a bit guilty,” he whispered.

“No,” Sousuke said. “No, Makoto, you can’t let yourself think that way. You know it was his own choice.”

“I know that,” Makoto said. “Believe me; I of all people know it’s not my fault. I know the types of thoughts that go through someone’s mind in those last moments. I know it’s not my fault, I know it was his decision, but I still feel guilty.”

Sousuke sighed. “I suppose that’s normal. I just hope it doesn’t plague you for too long.”

“I’m still glad I met him though,” Makoto confessed. “Even though it hurts, I’m still really glad I got to meet him.”

“So am I,” Sousuke said. “I think Yoshimoto was an amazing guy. He was kind and funny. I miss him too. I know what he meant to you though. I know it has to hurt you.”

“It does,” Makoto agreed. “But . . . I don’t think it’ll hurt like this forever. I don’t.”

Sousuke squeezed Makoto tighter. “I’m glad.”

“I just wish he could’ve been happy though.”

“I think he was. Maybe not all the time, but on those days he would have lunch with you or he would read his favourite book or watch his favourite movie or spend a quiet evening with his mum and sister, I think he was happy. Even if he couldn’t _be_ happy, I know he felt happiness,” Sousuke whispered.

Makoto smiled at that.

His cat slowly walked into the room over to Makoto and Sousuke. She pushed her head against his arm, asking for a rub. Makoto ran his hands over her fur and felt the low and soothing rumble of her purrs. They always calmed him down. She felt soft beneath his touch.

Makoto felt calmer with the heat of Sousuke against him, blending with the soft sensation of his cat.

Sousuke ran his thumb, soothingly, up and down Makoto’s arm.

Those moments reminded Sousuke how far they had come. It reminded him of who they were.

They weren't two tragically shattered souls that could only breathe when around one another. They weren't each other's saviours. They were just two people.

Two people with a few bumps and bruises.

Two people who had a difficult time.

Two people who kept on walking, even when they wanted to give up, because it felt like everyone else was running.

They were not anything special or extraordinary.

They were just themselves.

They had something between them. It was not defined by words or upheld by standards. It was soft and sweet. It was something that gave them solace. It was something they could live without, but chose not to. It was a bond. It was a friendship. It was an epilogue and prologue all rolled into one. It was more than friendship, but to what extent they did not know. They did not want to venture their thoughts onto what could be when they were happy with what they had.

They were just two men, two boys, whose paths happened to intersect.

They helped to change each other’s thoughts and opinions of life.

Most of his life, Makoto had hoped others would find happiness, but he was starting to wish the same for himself. To actually, genuinely, wish for happiness. And not the type of happiness that can just be used as a Band-Aid to cover sadness, but actual happiness. The kind one can feel tingle through their fingers and beat alongside their heart.

He was starting to feel like me might get there one day. Maybe.

Despite how long he had had to grow accustom to it, Makoto still did not understand his mind awfully well. It was still a foreign thing to him. He understood what made him tick, and he was getting better at picking up in signs that told him he was about to have a mental downfall. But he still did not understand, at least, he did not understand it as well as he thought he ought to. His mind controlled him and gave him life, yet it was still more of an acquaintance then a friend. But he knew he had a better understanding then he used to. He tried to tell himself that that would help him to become the person he so desperately wanted to be.

Stretch marks littered his legs and stomach like tiny crevices. He had no real passions. He struggled to not try and hide himself from the world. His mind would play tricks on him and convince him he had every reason in the world to feel miserable. He constantly mourned the lost splinters of his youth. His sexuality was still something that felt like an anchor wrapped around his rusting heart. He had come to terms with the fact that he would never accomplish anything meaningful. He struggled to connect with people and give and feel love to the extent he believed everyone else did. He fell easily into pits of uncertainty about himself. Makoto still felt as if he were stuck. However, he was still trying; and that was all he could ever truly hope for himself. He was trying to always stay awake to see another day. He was trying to desire what it could bring to him. He was trying with all he had.

He did not fear Tomorrow and her touch as much as he used to. Who knows, she might happen to bring some good along with her.

It felt as if the world had abandoned Makoto in a burnt ballroom, and he was stuck there with Tomorrow. Her perfume sticking like a thick musk to all the walls. She was the only person who demanded promises out of Makoto. She was the only one who cursed him, profusely, when he stepped out of line.

In that ballroom the lights were dim. She would walk over to him and wrapped her blood red painted fingers around his shoulders. She would place lipstick stains on his neck. For all of Makoto’s life, Tomorrow had led their dance. He had always complied placidly.

She had conducted the steps.

She had controlled him and the room.

For so long Makoto had fought against her. He would try to push and shove himself away. Not because he hated her, but because he craved her too much, and he knew it. He had always wanted to appease her and have her whisper something pleasant instead of something cruel. Though he never had enough faith in himself for her to say anything of the sought. So he pushed and pulled her in an attempt to ease his mind, though it always made him more tense and fearful of what Tomorrow would bring with her when they met again.

She would press her lips against his ear, staining them the colour of blood, and whisper the truths and the lies of his world he could not bear to hear. Ones that validated the cries and worries of his heart. Those words held a dirty mirror up to his soul, scrubbing the image of himself.

“Do you think good deeds are little coupons that you can collect and cash in once you fuck up?” she would ask, poison dripping from her lips. “Because they’re not. What you did in the past accounts to nothing when you do something wrong. And if you want them to, you were doing good things for all the wrong reasons.”

His body would shake. Her hands would travel across his chest, shooting pain and anguish into his thumping heart.

“You betrayed me,” she would state. “You came back – you said you would never come back to me. You lied. You stabbed me in the back,” Tomorrow would say.

“You’re a pathetic drama queen who uses his own attention seeking need and convenience to hurt me. You are disgusting and self-centred. Just as selfish as you were yesterday,” she would spit at him.

“No wonder everyone hates you,” she would whisper.

Makoto would feel his whole body shake and crumble at the words of Tomorrow. Though he often thought about them still, he often shivered and quaked at the thought of her and her presence, he no longer looked for her approval. He would sit in that ballroom, but he would not entertain her in a dance. He would not be dragged through the passages of time by her. Seeing her and being around her upset him, but he no longer let her wicked and abusive hands touch his heart – at least, not directly.

He may not lead the dance between the two of them, but he no longer gave her the power to either.

He did not fear Tomorrow as much as he used to.

***

_They were sitting on the lounge._

_Sousuke was looking at him, but Makoto could not lift his head from the ground. He could not find the strength he needed to look Sousuke in the eyes._

_His palms felt sweaty and his leg was slightly shaking. He swallowed a large lump that was lodged in his throat._

_“Makoto, this looks like it’s making you really fucking distressed. You don’t have to tell me,” Sousuke said._

_Makoto shook his head. “N-No, I have to. I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”_

_“Okay,” Sousuke replied, hesitantly._

_Makoto closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had decided he was going to tell Sousuke, so he would._

_He had to._

_He could do it._

_“Sousuke, I,” he began. Makoto took another deep breath. “I – I’m not telling you this because I want something to happen, per se. I j-just – I feel like I would be exploiting you or lying to you if I didn’t tell you. I don’t expect anything to change or become different, so don’t worry. I mean unless you want it to change. If you feel differently afterwards and want me to stop d-d-doing certain things because of it, I will. I promise I will. I just, I felt awful not telling y-you because I keep thinking I’m u-using you because of it. And I don’t want t-to do that,” Makoto took a deep breath. He felt his body start to shake a little bit more. He tried to calm his breathing down before he continued._

_In that moment Sousuke wanted nothing more than to stand up and walk over to Makoto. To give him a hug and try to help and calm him down. He knew that would not help Makoto in that moment though. He knew he had to sit there and listen, despite everything in his body telling him to do anything but that. “It’s okay, Makoto,” he said softly. “Just take your time. I promise I’ll listen to every word.”_

_Makoto nodded his head. He believed Sousuke. He did. But his body still shook with uncertainty. He took another deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sousuke,” Makoto breathed._

_Sousuke felt his chest tighten._

_“I-I’m really sorry. I never expected it to happen. But, I um, I seem to,” Makoto stuttered. “I seem to of developed, um – I just. I-I really like you, Sousuke. I really, really like you. You’re an important person and friend to me. I value your friendship the most, I really, truly do. But i-it seems that I’ve also developed romantic f-feelings for you too . . . I-I felt like I had to tell you because you l-let me live with you and you help me so much, a-and I just thought I-I would be lying to you and u-using you if I didn’t tell you. I d-didn’t want to do that. I thought that m-maybe they would go a-away, but they haven’t. I-I really am very sorry, Sousuke. I understand if you don’t want me to live with you anymore.”_

_Sousuke’s eyes went large. He did not know what to say. He felt like he had been waiting for that one moment for so long. It felt as if it had been all that he had craved for such a long time. He finally had it. His heart started to swell. In his mind Sousuke had planned and dreamed of what he would say if he ever found himself in that situation. He had so many warm things he wanted to say to Makoto. So many loving words that he had held onto for so long._

_He was overwhelmed though. So he said the first thing that came to mind. His lack of a filter became apparent, however._

_“Are you an idiot?” Sousuke asked._

_Makoto’s head shot up and his back straightened. “I-I’m sorry, I just –”_

_Before he could finish Sousuke started talking again. “How could you think that would upset me? I thought I had been obvious with all my actions! Why in the world would I be upset over hearing that from you?”_

_“I don’t understand what you mean, I –”_

_“Who would be upset over hearing the one they love say that they love them back?”_

_Makoto did not understand. He felt like he must have misheard Sousuke or misunderstood the situation somehow._

_“S-Sousuke, I’m sorry, but I think I’m a little confused.”_

_Sousuke moved himself closer to Makoto and wrapped his good arm around him. He pulled Makoto into his chest. Makoto breathed in his rich scent. Makoto wrapped his arms around Sousuke, being mindful not to hit Sousuke’s bad shoulder._

_“I’m saying,” Sousuke mumbled. “That I feel the same about you, you big oblivious lug.”_

_“R-Really?” Makoto stuttered._

_“I honestly thought you knew. I wasn’t what you would call subtle about it. Everyone else could see how fucking nervous I got around you.”_

_“I guess I just never saw it . . . but I still don’t understand, Sousuke. You’re this amazing, attractive, hardworking, kind person. And I’m . . . I’m me.”_

_“On the contrary, Makoto,” he replied. “I feel that way about you because you’re you. You’re one of the strongest people I know. And you’re so kind I can’t believe it sometimes.”_

_“B-But I have so many problems, and I’m –”_

_“You’re ‘problems’ aren’t things that affect me, Makoto. They’re not easy all the time, but I can handle them. Just like you can handle my ‘problems’.”_

_Makoto swallowed. “But I’m asexual. And . . . and I think a part of me is still in love with Haru. I think a part of me always will be. I don’t think that’s fair to you.”_

_Sousuke tightened his grip. He was not going to let them drift back. He wanted them together too much, and now that he knew Makoto felt the same way he wanted to fight for it._

_“Okay, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Sousuke stated. Makoto could feel the deep rumble of his voice vibrate against his body. “I don’t care in the fucking slightest that you’re asexual. I don’t. Yes, some people need sex in a relationship, and that’s okay. Yes, I really love sex – but, I don’t need it, Makoto. I really don’t. I don’t need it to make me happy or to feel close to you. If it’s something you decide you want to try one day, then we can, but if you never want to have sex then we don’t have to. I really don’t care. I can sort myself out; I don’t need another person to be there with me. Do you understand me?”_

_Makoto was about to say something, but he felt tears prickling against his eyes, so he said nothing. He did not trust his voice. He simply nodded his head._

_“Good,” Sousuke said. “Now, secondly. It’s okay to love more than one person, Makoto. Romantically or platonically, or whatever. It’s okay. If I’m to be honest with you, I think a part of me will always be in love with Rin. But that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone else in the same way or even more. I know how important Haru is to you. I know you love him dearly as a friend and I know a part of you may be in love with him for the rest of your life. That’s okay, Makoto. That doesn’t invalidate your emotions for me. It doesn’t. I can promise you of that.”_

_“I don’t feel worthy of you,” Makoto whispered._

_“I don’t think there is anyone more worthy – if anything; I would say I’m the unworthy one. I don’t think you realise how incredible you are. Who was the one who held my hand before I went into the operation for my shoulder? Who’s the one who hugs me and holds me when I feel worthless and alone? Who’s the one who takes me completely as I am? Who’s the one that tells me stories of the past with love and enthusiasm? Who’s the one with a heart so large he forgives the world that has pushed him down so many times? Who’s the one who tries so hard to be okay just so someone else won’t feel down?” Sousuke asked softly, “That’s you, Makoto. You’re so amazing and I know you can’t see it, I know you can’t, but I want you to let me love you the way you love me. I know I can’t fix your problems, I know you can’t fix mine. I don’t love you despite your ‘problems’, Makoto. I just love you.”_

_Makoto’s face was wet. “Me too,” he cried. “I love you too, Sousuke.”_

_Sousuke kissed the top of Makoto’s head and hugged him tighter. After so long, Sousuke felt he had truly found something he could fight for. The same feeling he got when he had won his first swimming race washed over Sousuke in that moment. He took in a deep breath._

_It felt like the first real breath of life he had taken in for a long time._

_***_

Makoto was going to walk through the rest of his life holding onto a red balloon, with a thin and fragile string. He knew he would. It would float high among the clouds he often craved to touch. It would glow in the light of the sun. It would bump into other balloons and sometimes wrap around their strings, though he would never know. Some days he would walk with the balloon wrapped securely around his wrist, other days he would be hanging from it as it rung itself tightly around his throat. Some days he may forget that he had it, other days it would be the only thing he ever noticed. He knew that was his fate, and he was starting to accept it most likely always would be, to some extent.

He could still find no reasons to live. Yet he also found none to die. He thought that was progress of some kind. He still held no meaning. He held no purpose, but maybe, that was not so bad. Maybe having no purpose was okay. It would not be possible for everyone to achieve in life, some people have to fall behind. If him falling behind meant someone else could succeed, maybe it would all be okay. Maybe his destiny was to fail. And maybe, that was okay.

Makoto reached for Sousuke’s fingers and lightly held them in his hand. They felt warm.

“How come you’re over so early?” Makoto asked. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until dinner time.”

“The piece I was editing didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I thought it’d be nice if we could have lunch together.”

Makoto smiled. “That sounds nice. What did you have in mind?”

“Hmmm – Pizza, maybe? I don’t think either of us are in the mood to cook.”

“That sounds fine by me,” Makoto said. “We don’t have to eat out do we though?”

“Of course not. If we have it a little later we can have a light dinner too, if you’d prefer.”

Makoto smiled. “Okay.”

Sousuke nudged him softly with his knee. “You know, we wouldn’t have this problem if you were back at my place, I have lots if instant food we could’ve cooked up,” Sousuke said. Both of them knew he was joking, but that he was also partially being serious. Due to his stubborn need to prove himself, Makoto wanted to try and live alone once he got a job. He knew Sousuke would have let him stay, and a part of him wanted to stay, but a larger part of Makoto wanted to prove to the world, and to himself, that he was capable of living by himself. Sousuke had supported him, even if a tad apprehensively. Honestly, to start off with, Sousuke did not mind where Makoto chose to live, he had just been terrified that Makoto was using that an excuse to distance himself from everyone and try to kill himself again. Once Sousuke had shared those concerns Makoto could not stop crying. It truly hit Makoto how much Sousuke cared about him. He felt guilty for all the turmoil he had caused. He felt like a cruel person. He had worked hard to prove to Sousuke that he only wanted to live on his own so he could have some physical form of proof that he was capable of _something._

So Sousuke agreed.

However, he had begun to miss Makoto being around him. He wanted to greet Makoto once he came home from work every night. He wanted to hug Makoto in the early parts of the morning. He wanted a place to call theirs. He felt that after all they had both been through they had earned at least that. He did not want to push Makoto though, because despite it all, he was extremely proud of Makoto. Even though Makoto still fell down. Even though his head and heart were still filled with dark clouds. Even though he was not ‘better’, Sousuke felt nothing but pure pride when he looked at how hard Makoto was trying.

Makoto took a deep breath. “I-I’ve actually been thinking of coming back . . . if that’d be okay with you, I mean.”

Sousuke sat up straighter. “Of course! Of course that’s okay. Makoto, I would love nothing more than to have you come back to my apartment. And of course Yuki is able to come too. Heaps of people have cats there.”

“Really?” Makoto asked for clarification.

“Absolutely. When were you thinking of coming?”

“My lease ends in about three months,” Makoto said. “I thought that would be a good time, instead of renewing it. P-Plus it gives us time to get everything sorted out.”

Sousuke hugged Makoto tighter and kissed his head. “That sounds perfect to me.”

***

_The room was dark; however, Makoto could still see the faded outline of Sousuke above him._

_His whole body felt as if it were burning. He did not know if that was normal or not._

_Sousuke ran his lips down Makoto’s jawline. Makoto could smell the coffee on Sousuke’s breath. Makoto thought Sousuke was doing a good job of holding himself up with only one arm, while his legs were pressed against Makoto’s side for support._

_Sousuke broke away from Makoto. “Could you take my shirt off please?” he panted._

_“O-Okay,” Makoto replied meekly._

_His hands slightly shook as he lifted them up to Sousuke’s shirt. Cautiously, he undid the buttons and let the shirt fall open. Sitting up he started to take it off Sousuke’s body – being extra mindful of his bad arm._

_They were both sitting up as Sousuke slowly removed Makoto’s shirt with one arm. Once it was off, Sousuke moved forward swiftly and captured Makoto’s lips with his own. Makoto shivered. He brought his own hands up to Sousuke’s face and cupped it. The sharp bumps of his whiskers felt rough against Makoto’s hands._

_Sousuke’s hair was pooled around his face. Parts of it fell forward and tickled Makoto’s neck._

_Makoto’s stomach clenched and felt extremely tight, but he tried to pay no mind to it. He wanted to do this for Sousuke. He had to._

_They both fell back down onto the cool mattress. This time Sousuke was laying on his back. Makoto was straddling his stomach. In that moment Makoto felt odd. He felt embarrassed and scared to be letting Sousuke see his body and feel his rolls and lumps, but at the same time, it felt so liberating to show someone something he had kept hidden for so long. Even if he hated what he was showing, a small part of his heart felt free with the knowledge that the person he was showing this side of himself to was someone he loved. Someone who said they loved him._

_Makoto never thought he would find himself in that sort of situation._

_It felt nice._

_However, despite that, he still felt terrified and mortified at what he knew was to come. His throat felt tight and his heart felt tense. Makoto tried with all he could to push past those emotions._

_Sousuke warmly ran his hands up and down Makoto’s legs. It made Makoto shiver._

_“You’re so handsome, Makoto,” Sousuke mused._

_“So are you,” Makoto replied. Sousuke stretched his arm up to Makoto’s face and slowly brought it down to his own. He sweetly kissed Makoto on the lips. Makoto returned the kiss. He liked the feeling of Sousuke’s warm face pressed against his own._

_Sousuke dragged his arm across to Makoto’s pants. His fingers slipped behind the waist band of Makoto’s underwear. Makoto felt his skin crawl. He knew there was no going back though. He wanted to do this for Sousuke._

_He had to._

_“You okay?” Sousuke asked._

_Makoto did not trust himself to reply, so he simply dragged his lips down to Sousuke’s neck and kissed it._

_“Makoto?” Sousuke repeated._

_He stopped kissing Sousuke, but still did not reply. Sousuke quickly sat up and turned the side lamp on. The room glowed with a musty yellow. Even though Makoto tried to avoid eye contact with Sousuke, Sousuke could still see how large Makoto’s eyes were and how his body slightly shook._

_“Hey, hey,” Sousuke said softly as he moved closer to Makoto. He softly rubbed Makoto’s arm. “What’s wrong?”_

_“I-I’m so sorry, Sousuke,” Makoto whispered, his voice hoarse. “I tried. I really did. I’m sorry.”_

_Realization came crashing down onto Sousuke like a broken and rotting willow tree._

_Sousuke wanted to hold Makoto and tell him it would all be okay, but he could see how shaken up Makoto was, and he did not know if touching him would be the best thing to do._

_“You don’t have anything to say sorry for, Makoto. You don’t have to say sorry for shit._ I’m _sorry I didn’t realise sooner.”_

_Makoto shook his head. “I w-wanted to do this f-for you. I wanted to give this to y-you so badly.”_

_“I don’t want this, Makoto. I don’t want anything from you that you’re not willing to give me. I don’t care what it is; I don’t want it if you don’t want to give it to me. I would hate to do anything with you that you weren’t okay with giving me.”_

_“But – I just thought –”_

_“No,” Sousuke said sternly. “I meant what I said. I want fuck all of anything you don’t want to give me. I don’t care what it is. If you think I’d want this while you don’t, then you don’t know me very well, Makoto. I don’t need sex. I don’t want you to force yourself with me. Not with me, Makoto.”_

_Makoto realised the type of situation he had placed Sousuke in. Guilt ate away at his heart. “I’m sorry, Sousuke.”_

_“You have nothing to be sorry over,” Sousuke whispered. “Just promise me you won’t force yourself like that again. I want us to be happy, like, really happy together, Makoto. We can’t do that if you push yourself. I want you as you are, not as who you think I’d like you to be.”_

_“I-I promise,” Makoto said. He wiped the tears away from his eyes. “Sousuke?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Can I please have a hug?”_

_Sousuke sadly smiled. “Of course.”_

_Makoto moved closer to Sousuke and placed his head against his chest. They softly laid back down on the mattress. The light glowed against Sousuke’s skin._

_In that moment Makoto thought Sousuke was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen._

_Sousuke trailed his fingers up and down Makoto’s bare arm. Makoto felt warm and safe in that moment. He felt loved. He felt accepted, which was something he was still trying to get accustomed to._

_“Sousuke?”_

_“Hmmm?”_

_“I love you, very much.”_

***

Over the years many things had changed. Many more things were destined to change. Maybe they would make new friends, or meet again with old ones. They would lose their way more times than they found it. Their skin would grow wrinkly and one day they would have to say goodbye. One day they would have to say goodbye to everyone.

One day Rei and Nagisa would stop telling jokes.

One day Rin would stop visiting Sousuke for dinner and late night beers.

One day Haru would stop resting his head on Makoto’s shoulder.

One day Sousuke would stop holding Makoto’s hand.

One day Makoto would stop seeing the sun rise.

One day it would all come to an end.

It was the price that came along with the chance of a life. It was the price that had hooked into the hearts of all those that Makoto had met. He knew one day things would change. They always did. Some days Makoto would hear stories of people he used to go to school with. Those people felt so distant from him, yet they were once all he could see. He would find photos of when he was younger and remember how full of hope and fun he used to be. He would go over to Rin and Haru’s house and remember when Haru used to come to him and laugh and cry when they were boys. He would read an email from Rei and Nagisa and remember how hard they all tried while in high school to find a word to describe who they were. What they were.

Makoto was a painting made of mistakes and memories. But he thought he might be okay with that. Because he often caught himself thinking, _at least I’m something._

Sousuke rested his head on Makoto’s shoulder. The weight of the world and his heart dissolved into the weight of Sousuke’s head on his shoulder.

“Before lunch we could go for a little stroll if you like. The weather seems perfect for it,” Sousuke said.

Makoto smiled. “That sounds nice.”

Makoto had seen and felt a lot in life. He knew he was destined to feel more. He had regrets and things he wished he could be stronger in, but he felt slightly proud also. He felt proud that he was still able to hold onto Rin, Haru, Rei and Nagisa – even if it was in ways he never thought he would. He was proud he was able to love and learn from his friends. He was proud he was able to love and learn from Sousuke.

His clouds of darkness never left him, and Makoto had come to accept they probably never would. He still felt as if he were five steps behind everyone else. He still caught himself feeling alone and useless and sad and broken and unneeded. He still did not love himself. However, he did learn that spots of yellow happiness still existed in his world, even if they were small and hard to grasp.

Life had given him a lot to see and feel – dark and grey or pink and blue.

Though, through it all, Makoto learnt something. He came to realise that people were not given happy beginnings, and they certainly were never given happy endings; instead they got happy moments. And those moments were little things that would come and go in sporadic motions, but they were happy none the less. Sometimes they were enough to help a person forget about the darkness that followed them, other times they simply made the darkness darker and more palpable. A cure would not come out of happiness, but Makoto had come to realise that the problem within itself was not unhappiness. Unhappiness was merely a side effect of everything else. However, Makoto still tried his best to keep an eye out for those small moments of happiness; he felt that he had a few left, waiting for him to reach them.

_The walk ahead is long; and not everyone makes it to the end._

_Most people question why they are chosen to walk something so important,_

_if all they do is fall._

_But,_

_just taking a single step each day brings them closer to the truth they must learn._

_Much pain will come from this journey, where many tears follow._

_However, smiles are still formed._

_One thing to keep you strong is the covered person holding your hand, never letting go._

_In your heart you know,_

_you know,_

_you must finish this walk; but are unsure why._

_If you end your long journey, the covered person reveals their face, so long that was hidden._

_Someone you knew all along._

_Did they give you strength in times of pain?_

_Or,_

_Did you guide them to a place they could not see alone?_

 

** ~ The End ~ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! It is all over! Thank you to all those who have read this all the way through. It means so much to me. :) Okay, so below I am going to make some notes in why I did certain things they way I did. I apologise in advance if I make little no sense or start to ramble.  
> \- So firstly, this story was more about sense of self and friendship then it was about romance. That was why Sousuke & Makoto took so long to get to where they were, because while did want to include it, I didn't want it to be the main focus. First & foremost Sousuke & Makoto are friends, & I wanted that to be clear. For some reason platonic love is never seen as seriously as romantic love, so I wanted to show that platonic love can be just as strong and pure, but also as demanding & painful.  
> \- I wanted to show how similar illnesses can affect people differently. The main four people in this story with said illnesses are Haru, Makoto, Sousuke and Yoshimoto. They all show different sides of it. Haru's illnesses make him controlling & paranoid(obviously also making him upset as well, but that is a given with mental illnesses). Haru's illneses have a large impact on his exterior world. One of Sousuke's illnesses was one that he has had for a long time, while another one was one that came due to something happening in his life, I wanted to show, through Sousuke, how those can affect people, & how not all illnesses stay they same. Sousuke gets to the point where he doesn't need medication for his depression, but still needs them for his anxiety. Even though his anxiety isn't as intense, he still has panic attack sometimes, even as a grown man, which is something people forget sometimes. I wanted to show through Makoto how going untreated for such a long time can have long lasting effects, I wanted to show through him that getting help is a scary thing, but it is never the wrong thing. & through Yoshimoto I wanted to show how both self and life can affect someone. Sometimes even when things are going good, someone's mind can give way, no matter the age.  
> \- There's this perception that I have seen a lot. A lot of people like to say that it is only neurotypical people who can hurt mentally ill people, but I wanted to show that they can hurt each other, and their families, even if not intentionally. Mental illness is hard for the individual to deal with, but they are also hard for friends & family. I wanted to show the different sides of that. Haru and Makoto's mental illnesses negatively affected each other, just like Makoto's illnesses affected his family however Sousuke's and Makoto's illnesses did not affect each other. Each situation is different, but I wanted to show the affects it can, sadly, have on everyone involved. Sometimes one person is in the wrong maybe all of them are, & sometimes, none of them are.  
> \- I purposefully never gave out ages & distinct times, because Makoto ( and many people with mental illnesses) are in states if disconnect and disassociation. I wanted to replicate that in the way I presented this story. I jumped around a lot between the past and the present & gave little detail in some situations because I wanted that feeling of disconnect & confusion to be evident & palpable.  
> \- I didn't want Makoto's sexuality to define him. I've noticed that in life, the older you get, the less those things become the forefront of someone and the more it just becomes something they either accept, embrace, deny, hide or repress.  
> \- I wanted to explore change the loss of childhood. While these are ideas that most everyone struggles with, I find when some has had illnesses since a young age, those emotions can become extremely enhanced, & no one really tells you how to deal with them, because it is not a common experience in general.  
> \- I wanted to make it very clear that mental illnesses are not beautiful things, & no matter how much you love someone or how much they love you, they cannot take the problem away. They can bring you happiness and help you, but not fix.  
> \- Throughout the story I had 'Tomorrow' personified as a human, this was done to replicate an emotionally abusive relationship.  
> Thank you all so much for reading this story and giving all the support you have. I went into this knowing not too many people would read it, since it was about a dense topic and in a fandom that is nowhere near the size it used to be. But it was story I still wanted to write, because it was important to me. So I was blown away by how many of you took your time to read. I cannot express my thanks enough. <3 You are all so wonderful and amazing. Thank you for this experience <3 <3


	17. SPECIAL UPDATE

Hello! :) 

Sorry, this extra piece is not part of the story, I just have an announcement to make! 

I will be, slowly, over this year putting this story on Wattpad. And as such, I will be changing parts of this story (mainly spelling, grammar, the names of the characters and maybe a small few plot points.) - Not on here though  

I'm not sure if I will remove the story from this website or not. I don't think I will, but if I do I will let you all know a good deal of time in advance. 

This was not a decision that came to me easily. I had intentionally avoided Wattpad at the start. I did not ( and still don't) feel comfortable having lots and lots of people reading my work. I am far more comfortable with the level of readership I have on here, however, all of you were so amazingly kind and wonderful on here, that I thought maybe I could give it a go. I genuinely cannot thank you all enough for all of your lovely and beautiful words of encouragement. I have saved every beautiful message you have all sent to me, and they all mean the world to me. They helped to give me more confidence and pride in my work, and for that I am forever greatful. I truly, truly am. <3 

 

Through The Glass Of A Fish Bowl and my other story I have started putting on here, From Tomorrow Until Yesterday, will be going up there. Though FTUY won't need to be changed, and may possibly go up before TTGOFB, I am not sure yet.  If any of you would like to support me over there ( and please don't feel obligated to, your support on here has meant so much to me by itself <3) my pseudonym on there is : K_B_Campbell. Ahaha, not super fancy, but that is alright, a pseudonym doesn't have to be, and I am just bad at coming up with pseudonyms that sound like a real name, so I went with this one, ahaha.

 

I truly cannot thank you all enough for the confidence you gave me to take this step. Even if no one reads it over there, I cannot thank you all enough for helping me get there. This is a nervous step that I am taking, but my heart will forever be so grateful to all of you for taking the time to read this story and saying such warm and kind things about it. <3 <3 

 

if you have any questions I will be more than happy to answer them! :)

 

I will probably be deleting this update in a couple of months, or earlier, I just wanted to let you all know, because you are all such beautiful and wonderful people and I wanted to let you know how much you all helped me! <3 

 

I hope you all have an incredible day!! <3 <3 And thank you so much for reading this little update!! <3  

 

Thats all for now, 

Pastel_ Rose <3 


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